FAUST. 



PART THE SECOND. 



RENDERED 

FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE, 

BT 

ARCHER GURNEY. 



p LONDON: 
PUBLISHED BY ^SENIOR, HEATHCOTE, & SENIOR, 
ifoveign Booksellers, 
49, PALL MALL. 

1842. 



ACT THE FIRST, 



CHARACTERS INTRODUCED. 



THE EMPEROR. 
FAUST. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 
CHANCELLOR, 
MASTER OF THE HOUSE- 
HOLD. 
TREASURER, 
GENERAL. 
FOOL. 

ASTROLOGER. 

ARCHITECT. 

CHAMBERLAINS. 

PAGES. 

COURTIERS, 

LADIES. 



HERALD. 
SATIRICAL POET. 
DRUNKEN MAN. 
AGLAIA. 

HEGEMONE. I The Graces. 
EUPHROSYNE, 
ATROPOS. 



CLOTHO. 

LACHESIS. 

ELECTO. 

MEGARA. 

TISIPHONE. 

FEAR. 

HOPE. 

WISDOM. 



y The Fates, 



The Furu 



iv CHARACTERS 

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 
ZOILO-THERSITES. 
PLUTUS (MEPHISTOPHELES) 
BOY CHARIOTEER. 
SATYR. 

PAN (THE EMPEROR.) 
FLOWER GIRLS. 
GARDENERS. 
WOODCUTTERS. 



INTRODUCED. 

PULCINELLOS. 

PARASITES. 

WOMEN. 

PARIS. 
HELEN. 

ARIEL. 

CHORUS OF ELFIN SPRITES, 



i 



PREFACE. 



Whilst the beauty of detached scenes and passages in the 
Second Part of Faust can be denied by none, many are of 
opinion that little positive meaning, scarcely anything of a 
fixed tendency, no lesson for good or evil, can be gleaned 
from that extraordinary work. It is contended that it is a 
conglomeration of scenes, each of which, separately, and 
by itself, must be allowed to possess great merit, but which 
are not sufficiently connected with one another to form one 
complete whole. I do not share this opinion ; and I will 
endeavour, in as few words as may be, to explain what I 
consider to have been the author's plan and object in this 
truly wonderful production. In order to do this, I shall be 
compelled to notice briefly the First Part of Faust, of which 
the work now immediately before us is but the sequel and 
conclusion. 

Faust, then, in the First Part, is represented as a Pro- 
fessor in a German University, who, after the toil and 
study of many years, has arrived at the conclusion, that he 
has laboured in vain, and that all knowledge is vanity. 
Stung to the soul by this reflection, he dreams of plunging 

A 



ii 



PREFACE. 



into the vortex of pleasure and dissipation, and of enjoying 
earth at least, as he can discover or fathom nothing beyond 
it. He is in this mood when the spirit of evil, Mephistopheles, 
seeks his presence, and, falling into Faust's own train of 
thought, assures him that all knowledge is vain and profitless, 
and that pleasure is the only good. This pleasure he offers 
with youth, love, and beauty ; and all that he demands as 
the price for these glorious benefits is the soul of Faust in 
the after-world, if after- world there be. Faust assents to this 
proposition on the condition that Mephistopheles serve him, 
as his slave, until he has succeeded in making his master so 
perfectly happy that he shall call on the passing moment to 
stay, exclaiming, £C Linger, thou art so beautiful !" If Me- 
phistopheles does not succeed in this, his time and pains are 
to be given for naught. To this condition the devil accedes, 
and accordingly a bond to that effect is signed by Faust, in 
his own blood, as ink. It should be observed that Mephis- 
topheles calculates much more on the opportunity thus 
afforded him for plunging Faust into the abyss of sensual 
sin than on the parchment bond, which, after all, was a 
mere form of ceremony ; for it is not to be supposed that 
any mortal should have the power of thus bargaining away 
his own soul. However, the bond is signed, the bargain is 
concluded, and Mephistopheles commences his labours by 
giving youth and beauty to Faust again. The latter soon 
sees a simple, artless maiden, with whom he falls in love ; 
but this passion being merely sensual, and unaccompanied 
by any deep mental emotions, indeed scarcely deserves the 
name of love. Yet Margaret (this is the maiden's name) is 



PREFACE. ill 

deceived by it. She, the type of all innocence and purity, 
falls from her high estate, and becomes the victim of the 
seducer. In the meantime, Faust, far from feeling any real 
pleasure in his conquest, is devoured by remorse and agony. 
He condemns himself as a heartless fiend, and yet, having 
once yielded to the voice of temptation, having once started 
on the downward path, he finds it impossible to retrace his 
steps, — he sinks yet deeper and deeper in sin. The end 
of this criminal passion is death and misery. Margaret, 
maddened by her agony of spirit, destroys her child, and 
expires in the dungeon from which Faust has vainly be- 
sought her to fly. Thus the First Part concludes. Faust is 
borne away by Mephistopheles, and the voice of Margaret 
is heard from above calling him back to the paths of love 
and light, but as yet vainly. 

In the Second Part of this great work, we find him re- 
solving to forget the past, and to start again on his search 
for happiness and joy. Some time has probably elapsed 
since the death of Margaret, and he issues on the world 
once more, under the guidance of Mephistopheles, eager 
for new pleasures — new delights. But still his desire is 
not pure and truly noble — he still seeks for happiness only, 
and not for virtue — he still would attain his goal by sensual 
means. Mephistopheles leads him to the court of the 
Emperor of Germany. There, to please the monarch, 
Faust summons the shades of Helen and Paris from Hades, 
and, gazing on these two in a scene of dumb courtship, which 
they perform before the assembled court, he falls wildly in 
love with Helen, and attempts to grasp the shadow. Of 



iv 



PREFACE. 



course, this inroad on nature's laws is attended by defeat ; 
the spirits vanish in smoke, and Faust falls senseless. The 
character of Helen, here first introduced to our notice, 
forms a perfect contrast to that of Margaret in the First 
Part. The latter was the type of mental purity and 
beauty — Helen is the representative of sensual loveliness 
carried to its furthest point of perfection. Margaret is the 
maiden of the romantic — Helen the beauty of the classic 
age. The former's charms lie in her exquisite Christian 
purity of spirit — the latter's chief excellence is her irre- 
sistible loveliness, her marvellous grace. Thus Faust was 
far more likely to attain goodness in loving Margaret than 
in adoring Helen, had not his soul been unable to com- 
prehend and fathom the former's true superiority. As he 
has wandered from the true ideal, he naturally seeks com- 
pensation in the false, which lies nearer to him, and which 
he can more easily understand. Let it not be forgotten, 
however, that from the beginning, the Almighty himself 
had allowed Mephistopheles to tempt his creature to sin, 
and had anticipated Faust's final triumph over the wiles of 
the evil one. 

To resume : Mephistopheles bears Faust, in his swoon, 
to his old professional study, and thence proceeds with 
him and a strange sprite, called Homunculus, to the 
Classical Walpurgis Night. It would be useless to dilate 
here on the various concomitant events which led to this 
final result. I will but mention that all the ghosts of the 
classic ages were supposed to assemble on the plains of 
Pharsalia on one night in the year, and that it was natu- 



PREFACE. 



v 



rally expected Faust might be able to gain surer tidings 
of his new idol, Helen, there than elsewhere. There, too, 
he does hear of her, and is introduced by Manto, the daughter 
of Esculapius, into the realms of Pluto, where Orpheus en- 
tered of old. In that dark region does Faust seek and find 
his Helen, and by wondrous power he thence draws her 
back to earth again. By so doing, he confounds all time, 
and we consequently find Helen returning from Troy once 
more and sent on before with her maidens by Menelaus, to 
prepare the altar for a sacrifice. It is not needful here to tell 
by what means she is induced to take refuge in the palace of 
Faust, who appears as a barbarian chieftain. Suffice it to 
say, that she does so, and that they are subsequently united 
by Hymen's bonds. The child which is the pledge of their 
union soon falls the victim of its own audacity ; Helen then 
returns to Hades, and Faust is once more left alone. The 
moral conveyed by this allegory may be easily compre- 
hended. The bonds of sensual love are lightly broken, and 
beauty, unaccompanied by true virtue, cannot be expected 
to prove true to its deluded worshipper. Thus Faust finds 
the pleasures of mere sensual bliss fleeting and vain ; they 
afford him no real content even in possession, and leave 
regret and satiety behind them. — We are now approaching 
the end of this great poem. The crisis of Faust's fate has 
arrived. He forms the design of gaining a vast tract of 
country from the ocean, and in consequence of the magic 
aid afforded by him to the Emperor in a battle, he is con- 
stituted lord of all the land he may thus be enabled to 
secure. With the aid of Mephistopheles, who is of course 



vi 



PREFACE. 



compelled to serve him, he carries this design into execution, 
and invites the inhabitants of the neighbouring countries to 
take possession of the newly-conquered soH. He sees a 
happy and free people thus called by him into existence; 
and whilst he gazes on this scene of his successful labours, 
he feels a moment of true content and felicity, and in that 
moment expires. But in dying he has found the grand 
secret of happiness — he has discovered that the feeling of 
having made our fellow-creatures happy is the true key to 
joy; and thus in forfeiting, he has, as it were, redeemed his 
bond — in losing, he has gained. The will of Heaven is ac- 
complished — the anticipation of the Almighty is realized. 
Through sin and sorrow the labouring mortal has at last 
penetrated to the fountain of charity — he has made the 
great object of religion his own, and thus the goal of happi- 
ness is attained. It would be bootless to do more than 
allude, here, to the manner in which the angels deprive 
Mephistopheles and his fiendish crew of their supposed 
booty, and bear their future comrade to the skies. Suffice 
it to say, that this scene is conceived in the spirit of the old 
mysteries of the middle ages. The same remark will reply 
to the last scene, in which the old Romish heaven is brought 
before us. The author felt, no doubt, that his work must 
close, where it commenced, in the regions of celestial bliss, 
and he shrank at the same time from introducing the visible 
Godhead in either of its Triune Representatives. On the 
other hand, he felt that the Virgin, being far less sacred, 
less glorious, might be fitly introduced without too much 
shocking the reader ; and this he has done with great tact 



PREFACE. 



Vll 



and judgment Here, however, in this celestial region does 
Margaret once more meet her Faust, and welcome him to 
bliss ; and thus is he again united with the early loved and 
long deplored. 

Surely it is strange— nay, almost miraculous — that all this 
should appear aimless and visionary, that the Second Part 
should be declared to have little or no connexion with the 
First, to afford no satisfactory results.' To me the First 
Part appears most incomplete and unsatisfactory without 
it. We are there informed, in the Prologue, that the 
Eternal expects his servant, Faust, will vanquish the powers 
of darkness. Yet we subsequently see this servant enter 
into a bond of union with the Spirit of Evil ; we see him 
plunge into the abyss of sensual sin ; we see him betray 
and destroy Margaret, the emblem of innocence and virtue. 
And thus the First Part concludes, leaving us in the greatest 
doubt and uncertainty as to whether the will of Faust will 
ever be reconciled with that of Heaven, and the erring 
sinner seek and find salvation. The Second Part solves 
our doubts, and shews by what means this great result 
was obtained — namely, by true benevolence and love. What 
more beautiful and satisfactory solution of the enigma could 
be discovered than this ? How cheering is such a bright 
conclusion after the fearful scene of death and misery 
which the end of the First Part presents to us ! True, the 
spirit in which Faust exercises this charity is not all that 
might be wished for * he is too self-dependent ; he thinks 
too much of himself, and too little of his Maker. But we 
must make allowances for such defects as these in the work 



viii 



PREFACE. 



of a man who was bred and mentally nourished in the school 
of German (so called) Rationalism, Faust does not contain 
all the truth, but it contains a portion of the truth ; let us not 
slight that, because much remains untold. At all events, 
the lesson to be read from the work before us is clear, 
and those who will not see that lesson must, indeed, them- 
selves resolve to be blind. It teaches that happiness can 
never be gained by mere selfish joy ; that the absorption of 
self in the love of our fellow-creatures, striving to work 
them all possible good, is the real means of attaining true 
happiness. And this is a great and most important truth ! 
It is true that this resignation of self is to be sought for 
and attained by the medium of trust in the Redeemer. It 
is true that Goethe, the rationalist, could not fathom this 
mystery. But if we read his work in a proper spirit we still 
cannot fail to glean much good from it. It is much to know 
that joy in the happiness of others leads to our own happi- 
ness; that self-resignation, though only partial, is one 
means of attaining self-perfection : and this lesson Faust 
teaches. 



FAUST. 



PART THE SECOND. 

€f)t QtouxU 

ACT THE FIRST. 

SCENE I. 

A beautiful sylvan landscape. — Twilight. — Faust lying on 
a flowery bank, tired, restless, and endeavouring to sleep. 
— A number of graceful little Sprites move in airy circles 
around him. 

ARIEL. 

SONG — accompanied by jEolian harps. 

When, o'er the landscape, charming Spring 
Weeps 'mid her smiles in gentle showers, 
And fragrant op'ning blossoms fling 
Their varied sweets from gay wild flowers, 
The evil and the good have rights 
On your protection, — then to man, 
Afford, ye little elfin sprites, 
Whatever friendly aid ye can ! 

While hov'ring yon poor mortal's head around, 
Fulfil your duties as good fairies bound — 
Assuage the furious conflict in his heart, 
Heal the keen wounds of memory's fatal dart ; 

B 



FAUST. 



With cunning spells, lull sorrow's wintry blast, 
And teach him blest oblivion of the past. 
Night hath divisions four ; but let them be 
Conjoined, for once, in mystic unity ! 
First, on the greensward give him calm repose, 
Next, bathe him in the dew of Lethe's stream, 
So that with limbs refresh'd, like new-blown rose, 
He may bud forth anew, with morning's gleam ; 
O'er him let Conscience' pangs have no control, 
And with celestial fire illume his soul ! 

CHORUS OF FAIRIES. 

(Singly, by couples, and more, — alternately, then 
altogether.) 

When the gentle dews descend 
On flowrets fann'd by ev'ning's gale, 
And the twilight shades extend 
In floating mists o'er hill and dale ; 
Then gently elves, his eyelids close, 
Fair childhood's dreams revive awhile, 
Still sweetly whisper soft repose, 
And life of all its woes beguile. 

Night now shrouds the blue serene, 
Stars burst forth with golden glare ; 
Great and little lights are seen 
Gleaming here, and sparkling there, — 
Gleaming in the lake reflected, 
Sparkling in the vaulted sky, 
While by Nature's law directed, 
Rides the pale chaste moon on high. 

The darksome hours of night are o'er, 
Its pains, its pleasures, now have fled. 
Mortal ! thou wilt revive once more ; 
Morn's glowing beams play round thy head. 



FAUST. 



3 



Lo ! yon slender willows bending, 
Cast their shadows soft for thee, 
And the corn in waves ascending, 
Sweeps o'er the hills, a restless sea. 

Wouldst thou each fond wish obtain, 
Gaze on yonder prospect fair ! 
From thee shake Sleep's brittle chain- 
Though closely linked, 'tis thin as air ! 
Fear not thou to scale the wall 
Which others bound by custom shun ; 
He who would rise should dread no fall- 
Follow the impulse, and 'tis done ! 

tremendous noise is heard, announcing the approach 
of the sun. 

ARIEL. 

Hark, sprites ! — that elemental chorus 
Ushers the march of mighty Horus ! — - 
His chariot-wheels loud rattling roll, 
And shake the round earth on its pole. 
Hark ! how his trumpet-blast is sounding — • 
Startling, shrill, sublime, astounding ; 
Sight is blinded, hearing lost, 
The dancing clouds are tempest-tost — 
Haste we to yon friendly bowers, 
And hide us in their budding flow'rs ; 
Or seek the hollows of the rock — 
We may not brave the approaching shock ! 

[ The Spirits disappear, hiding themselves in the flowers, 
rocks, fyc. — Faust awakes. 

FAUST. 

Life's pulse all freshly beats yet once again 
The incense of the morning breeze to greet ; 
Thou earth, like me, to night hast softly lain — 
A mother slumb'ring at her offspring's feet. 
b2 



FAUST. 



With new-born thought, upsoars my enraptured soul, 

Excited to the high determination 

Onwards to press, upon the rugged goal, 

That leads us to perfection. Shadows soft 

Steal o'er the world — fair wonder of creation ! 

The woods with songs resound. Below — aloft — 

Athwart the plains, ethereal mists are spread, 

But heavenly rays now brightly through them burst, 

The forest boughs revive that slept half dead, 

In vapoury sunbeams they have slaked their thirst, 

And one by one, each brilliant hue around me 

Distinctly shines. Bright pearls are glittering on 

Each lovely flower, and now the mists are gone 1 

And scenes elysian everywhere surround me. 

Look upwards, where, the lingering night departing, 

Day breaks in blushes, — 'tis a holy hour ! 

The giant mountains into life are starting, 

In proud array their heads aloft they tower, 

Bless'd earlier by the heavens' eternal light 

Than the green vales below. Now may be seen, 

Slowly advancing, colours bold and bright, 

O'er lovely Alpine meadows : it is he ! 

He comes — the emblem of the Deity ! 

But, ah, his beams, which dawning seemed so fair, 

Are now too dazzling far for mortal eyes to bear ! 

So is it ever, when delusive Hope, 
Seeking the paths that unto wisdom guide, 
Would fain the mystic gates of knowledge ope, 
And at her coming, finds them thrown aside. 
Then swayed alternately by hope and fear, 
We tremble, whilst the heat within is glowing, 
And should we venture to approach more near 
Our torch to light, wave after wave, fast flowing, 
Out rolls a sea of flames, whose flashing fire, 
E'en but to gaze upon, aught earthly must expire. 



FAUST. 



5 



Is't love? — is't hate? — our souls that hovering o'er, 
Alternately with joy and grief assailing, 
To innocent boyhood makes us turn once more, 
Past halcyon days regretting and bewailing, 
When learned lore as foolishness we deem'd, 
And ne'er of aught beyond the moment dream'd, 

Fair sun, on thee no longer will I gaze ! 

For bursting from a thousand crystal fountains, 

And o'er the valleys scattering endless haze, 

The waterfalls are thundering down the mountains. 

Their course I mark with rapture — glorious sight ! 

See, how a hundred fathoms low they fall, 

Faster than thought ! Now to the charmed sight, 

Like fortresses, romantic, awful, tall, 

'Mid beetling clouds of drizzling mists, they rise, 

While the gay rainbow o'er the landscape bending, 

Now dazzling bright, now lost to mortal eyes, 

Although so late a myriad colours blending, 

Recalls to mind frail man's vain-glorious race, 

And thus the riddle easily we trace : 

This life — however brilliant, fair, and gay — 

Is vain and fleeting as the cataract's spray. 



SCENE II. 

Imperial palace. — Audience chamber.— The Court assem- 
bled await the arrival of the Emperor. — Trumpets, — 
The Emperor, followed by a splendid train of Courtiers, 
fyc, enters, and seats himself on his throne : he is quite 
a youth. — 0?i his right, stands the Astrologer. 

EMPEROR. 

Welcome, thrice welcome, subjects dear, 

In festal pomp assembled here ! 

The sage Astrologer, I see ; 

But say— my Jester ! — where is he f 



6 



FAUST. 



PAGE. 

Mounting the stairs, amongst your train, 
He fell, as by an arrow slain. 
The servants bore the rogue away, 
Dying or drunk, I cannot say. 

SECOND PAGE. 

Scarce had he fallen, ere, behold ! 

Another claim'd his vacant place ; 

Ugly as sin, but decked in gold, 

His mantle trimmed with finest lace. 

The guards detain the fellow still, 

Though very much against his will, 

With halberts crossed. The scene's absurd — 

Ah ! here he comes, upon my word ! 

mephistopheles [rushing forward, and kneeling before 
the throne.) 
What is accursed, yet welcome ever ? 
What is desired, yet chased away ? 
What to defend do ye endeavour, 
Yet for its condemnation pray ? 
Whose name do all men like to hear? 
Whose service hast thou never claimed ? 
What kneels to thee in tawdry gear ? 
And what is banish'd, yet unblamed ? 

EMPEROR. 

Enough, thou fool ! — more than enough, 
Of this obscure and riddling stuff ! 
These lords must catechize your foolship, 
When better versed in courtly schoolship ; 
And you, when we command, give answer, 
Or right, or wrong, the best you can, sir. 
My poor old fool, I fear, has run his race, 
So mount the steps, and take his vacant place. 
[Mephistopheles ascends the steps, and places himself 
on the left of the Emperor. 



FAUST. 



7 



courtiers, lords, and ladies, (murmuring confusedly.) 

Another fool — to gibe and jeer ! — 
Whence dropp'd he from ? — how came he here ? — 
The old one's dead — Heaven rest his soul ! — 
He was a tub — this rogue's a pole. — 

EMPEROR. 

Know, then, my friends, from far and near, 

For state affairs assembled here, 

Most favourable stars smile on the hours : 

Our learned friend, who's wont to look 

At midnight on their mystic book, 

Assures us that good fortune will be ours. 

But tell me, pray, why in these times, 

When we would gladly shun all cares, 

Dance, mask, drink, play, and scribble rhymes, 

We must be bored with state affairs ? 

But if we must, whether we will or no, 

Why then, in God's name— -fiat ! id est — be it so! 

CHANCELLOR. 

Virtue supreme, with glorious golden rays, 

Surrounds the Emperor's head, and only he 

Can bless us with celestial, happy days, 

With justice, and impartial clemency : 

Justice, which all men love, desire, demand, 

But emanates from his imperial hand. 

But what avails us knowledge or good will — 

Ah ! what avails e'en his imperial love 

In this distracted, wretched realm, where still 

W T hat should be low, is sure to soar above ? 

Oh ! if we gaze upon this land of sighs, 

Of sorrows, and unheard-of miseries, 

We think a heavy dream deceives our eyes ; 

We see fair Justice scorn'd at and despised, 

The while misrule above the stars is prized, 

And the whole mighty empire's quite capsized ! 



8 



FAUST. 



One steals a sheep, and one a wife ; 

One robs our holy mother church; 

Yet for the thief is made no search, — 

The deed he boasts of all his life. 

Before the Court the parties stand, 

The judge is seated facts to hear; 

The guiltiest guarded by a band 

Of haughty friends, has naught to fear. 

Lo ! from without, cries, deep and loud, 

Arise from the assembled crowd ; 

Whilst unprotected innocence 

Is e'er found guilty of offence. 

Thus everything alike goes wrong, 

And lawless power usurps the right ; 

Yes, thus, alas S our state too long 

Has lost fair reason's sunbeam's light. 

The powerless judge, who cannot quench 

The fire, nor dissipate its stench, 

Too oft the spreading flames will fan, 

And clasp the guilty to his arms, 

For even the well-intention'd man, 

Yields, in the end, to bribery's charms. 

With sombre colours, Sire, I paint the scene, 

Would I could draw a picture more serene ! 

[A pause. 

Some resolution must be ta'en ; 
For when all injure, ail complain, 
Even Majesty itself is naught. 

GENERAL. 

What riots rise in these sad days ! 
Around, the flames of discord blaze, 
The times with dangers vast are fraught ; 
Justice in vain for order calls : 
The citizen behind his walls, 
The knight upon his mountain nest, 
Have both agreed to do their best 
To disobey your high behest. 



FAUST. 



9 



The soldiers, too, the truth to say, 
Impatient grown, demand their pay; 
And if we owed them nothing more, 
I think they'd leave us altogether ; 
Their zeal is like our purses — poor, 
And cannot stand this wintry weather. 
Your empire, Sire, they'll not defend; 
Whole fertile regions now are void, 
Whilst discord's flames each day extend, 
And almost half the realm's destroy'd : 
Full many a potent king is our ally, 
But none lend aid in this extremity. 

TREASURER. 

For Heaven's sake boast not of allies, 
Or of their promised subsidies ! 
Not even one we yet have seen ; 
And, Sire, in your imperial lands, 
Who now obeys ? — who now commands ? 
Those who as yet have subjects been, 
Would rule themselves ; and well they may, 
Whilst we look on, and gape and wonder ; 
For all our rights we've given away, 
And scarcely kept the light of day. 
To grant so much, Sire, was a grievous blunder. 
Party 's no more ; and every man 
Does for himself the best he can. 
The Guelphs and Ghibellines, I wot, 
With all their feuds, are clean forgot ! 
Who now in aught attempts to help his neighbour ? 
Each for himself has scarcely time to labour. 
Some close their doors and hide their shining 
pelf, 

Others would filch it — each is for himself ; 

And thus they win and lose — all most improper — 

While our Exchequer scarcely holds a copper. 



JO 



FAUST. 



MASTER OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

You are unlucky ; so am I : 

Each day in vain to spare I strive ; 

As yet, thank Heaven, the poultry thrive ! — 

We bake, we boil, we roast, we fry, 

But every day you gobble more 

Than e'er was ate at Court before ! 

In boars with tusks, and bulls with tails, 

With stags and hares, or ducks and geese, 

Our larder scarcely ever fails ; 

Nor will its sources yet decrease ; 

But almost all the cellar's gone ! 

In former times the costliest wines — 

The j uices of the rarest vines — 

Our barrels fill'd ; but, one by one, 

Into oblivion they are sinking, 

For our nobility is never tired of drinking. 

The very aldermen must sell their store. 

You drink, and drink, and call again for more, 

Until you're laid upon the floor. 

And I am left to pay for all ! 

The sons of Israel do not spare me : 

Each day their leetle reckonings scare me, 

And naught our own we now can call ; 

Our beds are even mortgaged, and our food— ■ 

Our daily bread — is but a stolen good. 

EMPEROR. 

[After a pause, during ivhich he appears to reflect, — to 

MEPHISTOPHELES.) 

Well, fool ! what dismal news have you to bring ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

None, Sire ; and though I hear these ravens sing, 
When I survey the splendour all around 
/cannot fancy how such could be found. 



FAUST. 



11 



What can go wrong where Majesty commands ? 

Imperial might dissolves all rebel bands, 

And courage, with activity allied, 

Soon puts to flight their base plebeian pride. 

What powers of darkness, then, can rule the sky, 

When all the glorious planets shine on high ? 

courtiers, {murmuring.) 

The cunning rogue ! — I know his tricks — 
At no atrocious lies he sticks — 
I understand — his meaning well — 
What is it pray — if you can tell ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

V the world something to fail is always sure — 
Now this, now that — here you are all grown poor, 
And money 's not quite to be had for asking ; 
But Wisdom drags large treasures from the ground, 
And in the inmost mountain caverns basking, 
Gold, both uncoined and coined, may still be found : 
And ask you what these treasures vast can find ? 
The powers of human nature and the mind. 

chancellor, (starting in horror.) 

Nature and mind ! Good Christians speak not so ; 
For atheists are burnt, we know, 
Because such sayings are pernicious. 
Nature is sin, the mind 's the devil— 
'Twixt them was born the source of evil — 
Doubt, a young imp most sadly vicious. 
Therefore, in this imperial land 
Two classes round our monarch stand, 
And worthily support his throne — 
The holy priest and valiant knight — 
For church and emperor they bravely fight, 
And, as reward, claim church and empire for their 
own. 



12 



FAUST. 



Reason and Truth, your doubts confuse ; 
Such words as yours, fool, I suspect 
The heretics and wizards use 
When town and country they infect ; 
And though occasion you may seize 
To crack such wicked jests as these, 
Know, most suspicious is your station — 
The sorcerer to the fool 's a near relation. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

There spoke the learned man, who goes by rules, 
And hoards the musty science of the schools ! 
And though the treasure gleams in open day, 
He feels it not — it must be miles away ; 
He gripes it not — there's no such thing, be sure; 
He counts it not — it must be weak and poor ; 
He weighs it not — 'tis light as thinnest glass ; 
He coins it not — be sure it ne'er will pass ! 

EMPEROR. 

The varlet's flow of words is quite surprising ! 
But what 's the good of all your sermonizing ? 
No longer preach, no longer rave and scold — 
'Tis gold is wanted, varlet ! Get me gold ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

And I will get it, though my foes may chatter — 
A lightsome task ! — a light, yet weighty matter ! 
The treasures do exist — that, none can doubt ; 
Now comes the question — how to find them out ? 
Remember, when in deluge-bringing bands, 
Mankind's vast ocean swept o'er prostrate lands, 
That he who heard the distant billows roar, 
In rock and cave conceal'd his gleaming ore. 
Thus ran the world in ancient Roma's time, 
Thus runs it even now in every clime : 
The gold is in the earth — come take your measures — 
The earth 's the emperor's, — his shall be the treasures 



FAUST. 



13 



TREASURER. 

I must confess the fool's idea is bright ; 

Sure, such a step would be the Emperor's right. 

CHANCELLOR. 

This golden net is naught but Satan's snare ; 
The case is doubtful. Oh, beware ! — beware ! 

MASTER OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

For money, sirs, and fortune's golden kiss, 
A little evil could not come amiss. 

GENERAL. 

This fool is right — his plan 's as clear as day ; 
What asks the soldier whence you take his pay ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

And if you still believe the fool must err, 

Then turn to yonder wise astrologer ; 

He reads the heavens, he marks the planets' jars — 

Speak, then, most learned sage ! What say the stars ? 

courtiers, (murmuring.) 

They're rascals both — and know each other — 
The fool 's the mad — magician's brother — 
A story heard — in every age — 
The fool must prompt — and speak the sage — 

ASTROLOGER, 

(Speaking in a uniform tone of voice, as if repeating a 
lesson, while mephistopheles prompts.) 

The sun itself is naught but purest gold ; 
Star Mercury must serve in heat and cold ; 
Fair Venus has inflamed you from above, 
At morn and eve she smiles with looks of love ; 
Chaste Luna, too, is somewhat whimsical, 
And Mars with fiery darts does threat you all. 



14 



FAUST. 



And Jupiter's the brightest star of any, — 

The mighty Saturn seems a little zany; 

The chosen metal of his realm I hate, 

For though 'tis worthless, still its weight is great ; 

But oh ! if Sol with Luna could unite, 

And gold with silver, then 'twould all be right ; 

Then we could play the gayest, merriest freaks, 

And castles, gardens, breasts, and blooming cheeks, 

Should all be his who solved the mystery dire, 

And, like Prometheus, stole the heavenly fire. 

EMPEROR. 

I doubly hear the sage's lore, 
Yet am I not convinced the more. 

courtiers, {murmuring.) 

Enough ! — enough ! The stupid stuff ! 
Your histories — and mysteries ! — 
I've tried in vain ; they're wisdom's bane; 
Gold turns to mire — the fool's a liar — 

mephistopheles. 

Yes, there they stand, and stare and wonder, 
And gibe and jeer the golden store ; 
One talks of ghosts, and fiends, and thunder, 
One whispers tales of purple gore. 
I wish you joy, sirs — crack your jests, 
Nay, talk of witchcraft, crime, and burning ; 
But when each itching sole no longer rests, 
And slides as if its duty spurning, 

'Tis then you feel the secret power 
Of mighty nature still exists ; 
And still, in that most solemn hour, 
Around your legs it twines and twists. 
When every member seems to crack, 
And sudden pain disturbs your pleasure, 
Then take your spades, and dig and hack — 
'Tis there you'll find the golden treasure ! 



FAUST. 



courtiers, (murmuring.) 

I cannot turn my foot about—- 

My arm is cramped — I'm lamed with gout — 

There's something pains my little toe — 

My back is aching sadly — oh ! — 

My nose ! my leg ! Sure here must be 

A most imperial treasury. 

EMPEROR. 

Come, come ! thou canst not 'scape us now — 

Explain thy wondrous mysteries ; 

Shew where thy golden coinage lies, 

And there, by all the saints, I vow 

With all my courtiers to attend thee, 

And, if thou speakest truth, commend thee ; 

But if thou liest, to Tartarus send thee. 

mephtstopheles, (half aside.) 

Thither I well alone could find my way ! 

\_Aloud.~\ But still, most gracious sire, I cannot 

Pro certes, if in every spot 

Such precious treasures may be found or not. 

The peasant, as he ploughs his field, 

A chest of gold may chance discover, 

And heaps of ore are oft reveal'd, 

When naught is sought but chalk and clover. 

How many a vault must be exploded, 

Passes and clefts, unseen, untold, 

Be traversed by the mortal, goaded 

By eager thirst of gain and gold ! 

In wide and well-closed cellars lying, 

He marks at last the precious store, 

Where cups and plates in splendour vying 

With dishes of the costliest ore, 

In stately rows together stand, 

And cooing tempt the spoiler's hand. 



16 



FAU&T. 



Goblets of rubies, sire, are there, 

And near them wines both rich and rare. 

But — trust the word of one who 's seen it — 

Their wooden casks have sunk to dust, 

And so the noble juice's crust 

Has formed a wondrous incrustation ; 

The wines themselves repose within it, 

In night and darkness taking up their station. 

For precious essences like these, 

Like gold and gems, the daylight shun. 

A truly learned sage will search for ever : 

In daylight 't were a vain endeavour. 

In sacred night alone the keys 

To many a solemn mystery may be won ! 

EMPEROR. 

Away with gloomy mysteries ! Give me light ! 

Whate'er is precious comes to light of day — 

Who knows the veriest rogue ingrain at night ? 

The cows must fain be black, the cats be grey ; 

So i£ indeed, such golden stores abound, 

Bring forth thy plough, and delve them from the ground | 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Take axe and spade, and dig thyself, 

The hearty work will make thee grow, 

And many a store of golden pelf 

From secret vaults shall quickly flow. 

Then thou with gleaming jewels and rich brocade 

Canst deck thyself, and 'tire thy favourite maid. 

Such precious stones, when fashionably worn, 

Beauty and Majesty alike adorn. 

EMPEROR. 

Come, let 's begin ! Why hesitate so long ? 

astrologer, (mephistopheles prompting again.) 
Patience, most gracious sire, or all goes wrong. 



FAUST. 



17 



First, let the joyous carnival be passed ; 

Naught can be done whilst all our mummeries last, 

Then we by faith must sanctify our cares, 

And earn our earthly stores by heavenly prayers. 

Who hopes for good, must first himself be good ; 

Who longs for joy, must calm his fevered blood; 

Who thirsts for costly wine, ripe grapes must press ; 

Who calls for wonders, must believe no less. 

EMPEROR. 

Then let the hours in merriment be passed, 
Till blest Ash-Wednesday comes at last ; 
And now, 'midst jocund feast and flaunting ball, 
Be quickly passed our joyous Carnival ! 
[Trumpets. Exeunt omnes, Mephistopheles excepted. 

mephistopheles, (solus, after a pause.) 

That luck and merit go by pairs, 
Fools ne'er could learn in any age ; 
And if the sage's stone were theirs, 
The stone would be without the sage. 



SCENE III. 

(Splendid saloon communicating with other chambers in 
every direction. It is decorated and illuminated for a 
masquerade. The apartments are scantily filled by 
courtiers , ladies in fancy dresses, Sfc, 8fc, who are in 
the act of arriving. The Herald stands in the front 
of the stage.) 

HERALD. 

Ween not, my friends, in gloomy Germany, 
Of evil sprites and witching hags abode, 
This night to wander ; checked be every sigh, 
And spurned for aye be Woe's dejecting load ! 

c 



18 



FAUST. 



Our Lord the Emperor, in his late campaigns 
'Gainst fractious Roman rebels, crossed the Alps ; 
And adding to his former vast domains 
A new and laughing empire, decked your scalps 
With smiling fool's-caps, whilst upon his own 
He placed his new and bright Italian crown. 
Now all the world seems changed, and every sage 
Till then most grave and sober, chinks his bells, 
And leaps a Merry-andrew. Reverend age 
Forgets its dignity ; youth shouts and yells ! 
See, how the mob collects, and laughing, talking, 
Now gaily leaping, now sedately stalking, 
The vast saloon invades ! Advance — advance ! 
Thou motley crowd ! Ay, caper, squall, and dance ! 
With all her jokes, and jests, and vain misrule, 
This world is one sublime, eternal fool ! 

FLOWER-GIRLS. 

(Singing, and accompanying themselves on mandolines.) 

We are maids of smiling Florence, 
Come to own your monarch's right ; 

Youth and beauty are our warrants 
Of success and praise to-night. 

Flowers of gold and silk are waving 
'Midst our gleaming raven hair, 

Costly gems your favour craving, 
Formed, as odorous buds are there. 

And our artificial blossoms 

Are for ever bright and gay, 
Though they rest on ardent bosoms, 

Yet they never fade away. 

Painted cards we've cut to please you. 

Into every shape and size ; 
And though this and that displease you, 

Still the whole must charm your eyes. 



FAUST. 



19 



See, our forms are light and graceful, 

Cupid 's lent us many a dart ; 
Should our art appear distasteful, 

Know our nature is but art ! 

HERALD. 

Spread the precious stores before us, 
Which ye gaily bear around ye, 
Speak their praise in joyous chorus 
And with floral walls surround ye. 
Haste, and by your active measures, 
Conjure meads of flowery posies ; 
Let us view your smiling treasures — - 
Blooming maids and blushing roses. 

FLOWER-GIRLS. 

Spread your wares, and make your prices, 
For the brightest feast on earth ! 

Every maid, with wise devices, 

Haste to speak her blossoms' worth, 

first flower-girl, (with olive branches and fruit.) 

Envy is my detestation ! 
Flowers may shine, but still their station 
Never yet was sought by me. 
Is not plenty my attendant — 
Reigns not joy 'neath my ascendant, 
Rule not peace and harmony ? 
Haste ye maidens bright and fair, 
Plait me in your gleaming hair ! 

second flower-girl, {with golden corn-flowers.) 

Ceres' gifts are sweet and smiling ; 

Haste, ye maidens, buy of me 
Blossoms, fancy's self beguiling, 

Emblems of utility ! 

c 2 



FAUST. 



third flower-girl, (with a garland of fanciful 
flowers.) 

View my flowrets, wilder, sprucer, 
Glowing colours bold and bright ! 

Nature was not their producer, 

Fashion brought the buds to light. 

fourth flower-girl, {with fantastic nosegay.) 

Me to name, with praise or censure, 
Theophrastus would not venture; 
Yet full many a blushing maiden, 
Though with gems and diamonds laden, 
Soon will haste, 'midst gay caresses, 
Plait me in her raven tresses, 
Wondering view each shining blossom, 
Press me on her ardent bosom ! 

fifth flower-girl, {with china- asters.) 

Your fantastic flowers may glitter, 
Colours taste, and fancy fritter, 
Nature far inferior deeming 
Fashion's offspring glaring, gleaming ; 
Golden stalks and flowrets glowing, 
Peep, 'midst auburn ringlets flowing ! 
But we 

sixth flower-girl, (with rosebuds.) 

Hide 'neath smiling bowers; 
Blest is he who finds our flowers. 
When the summer birds are singing, 
And to life the rosebud's springing, 
Who would scorn our balmy treasures ? 
Love and kisses form our pleasures ! 
They in Flora's sweet domain 
Gaily bear unquestioned reign. 
[The flower girls spread out their buds and blossoms be- 
neath green arbours. 



FAUST. 



21 



GARDENERS. 

SONG, {accompanied by theorbes.) 

Costly flowers, in fragrance blooming, 
Round your stands are brightly gleaming ; 
Fruits are not so fair and beaming, 
Nor such odorous sweets exhuming. 

But your buds are quickly wasting — 
See our cherries, plums, and granates ! 
Eyes are naught to tongues and palates, — ■ 
Sight is sweet, but sweeter tasting. 

Bright and fair are odorous posies, 
Yet experience daily teaches, 
That though bards may sing of roses, 
They will bite our blooming peaches. 

Fly shall Mars and wild Bellona — 
Fly shall Discord's angry train ; 
Long may Flora and Pomona 
Hold united peaceful reign ! 

'Midst the sweetly odorous ether, 
'Neath our foliage vast and mute, 
All may here be sought together, 
Leaf and blossom, flower and fruit. 

( Whilst both parties take up the chorus alternately, accom- 
panied by guitars and theorbes, they continue to lay out 
and range in order their respective wares.) 

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER, (passing.) 
MOTHER. 

Maiden, when thou came'st to light 

Thou wast all perfection — 

Hadst such eyes, so soft and bright, 



22 



FAUST. 



Such a sweet complexion, 
That before my doating brain 
Visions swam of Hymen's train, — 
Peers at thy direction ! 

But full many a year, since then, 
Now has flown for ever ; 
All your suitors, faithless men, 
Laugh, and flirt, and sever ! 
Though you danced with every beau. 
Though you smiled and ogled so, 
All was vain endeavour. 

Though we went to feast and ball, 
Morning fetes moreover. 
Every man — I hate them all — 
Proved a faithless rover. 
Folly rules supreme to-night ; 
Bring thy hidden charms to light — 
Still thou'lt catch a lover ! 

( Other maidens, young and beautiful, join the group, and 
highly -confidential communications are made on all 
sides.) 

[Fishermen and bird-catchers, with nets, angles, lime- 
rods, and other implements of their arts, enter, and 
mix with the smiling maidens.— Attempts made on either 
side to gain, to imprison, to escape, and to secure, give 
occasion to the most agreeable dialogues.) 

wood-cutters, (entering in a rude and violent manner.) 

Room ! — void disasters! 
Hence with your clatter! — 
Forests we shatter, 
Which crash like thunder 
Over and under ; — 



FAUST. 



Know, ice re your masters ! — 
Shout forth our praises, 
Then, most devoutly : 
Made we not blazes, 
Were we not handy, 
Worked we not stoutly, 
Never could dandy 
Deck him so gaudy. — 
Ganders and geese all, 
Know, ye would freeze all, 
Worked we not for ye I 

PtJLCINELLOS. 

O silly creatures ! 
Coarse are your features, 
Coarser your senses ; 
Nature dispenses 
Cunning and daring, 
Or touching, or tearing ; — 
We're the true fellows, — 
Your whites, blues, and yellows. 
Now laughing, now prancing, 
Now jingling, now dancing ; 
Skipping so lightly, 
Where sunshine falls brightly, 
Gossiping, gaping, 
Our betters aping, 
Everywhere running, 
Flouting and funning, 
Like eels, fast sliding, 
'Neath ladies hiding, 
Laughing or weeping, 
Hopping or leaping, 
Still we're true fellows, 
Blues, whites, and yellows, 
All Pulcinellos ! 



FAUST. 



parasites? (smiling parasitically.) 

Oh, woodcutters' glory ! 
We humbly adore ye, 
With all your fine cousins, 
The coalmen, by dozens ; 
Indeed, ye are mighty men, 
Not silly, flighty men, 
Like Pulcinellos, 
Those little fellows. 
Were there no coalers, 
Hewed ye no wood, sirs, 
How could we make a fire, 
After our heart's desire, 
To cook, for dishes, 
Birds, beasts, and fishes ; 
To write a bill of fare, 
And all sweet things prepare? 
Coalmen so Hottentot, 
Woodcutters' glory, 
We, who know what is what, 
Humbly adore ye. 

drunken man, (reeling.) 

Let's be jovial all, and hearty ! 
See, I'm frank, and fresh, and free ; 
Songs and jests pass round our party, 
We'll be joyous company. 
Then I'll drink, and drink, and drink, 
Clash your glasses ! — tink-a-tink ! 
Let them clash, and let them sound, 
Pass the merry goblet round. 

Though my wife has raved and ranted, 
Though she's torn my coat in two, 
When I lightly gallivanted, 
When I termed her jade and shrew, — 



FAUST. 



'25 



Still I'll drink, and drink, and drink, — 
Clash your glasses ! — tink-a-tink ! 
Seize them maskers ! — let them sound ! 
Pass the merry goblet round. 

Don't suspect that I be tipsy, 
Think not all my cash is paid : 
Should my Hostess prove a gipsy, 
I'll get brandy from the maid. 
Still I'll drink, and drink, and drink, — 
Come, ye villains ! tink-a-tink ! 
One to one your glasses sound, — 
Pass the merry goblet round ! 

Pleasures all are sweet, but flying ; 
Tame discretion, you're a bore ! 
Let me lie though where I'm lying, 
For I now can stand no more. 

CHORUS. 

Every brother drink and drink ! 
Shout and clash your tink-a-tink ! 
To your seats be firmly bound, 
He's a fool who bites the ground. 

( The Herald announces various Poets, domestic and natural, 
courtly and knightly minstrels, both tender and enthu- 
siastic. — Amidst the confused Babel of declaimers on all 
sides, no single person is able to obtain a hearing.) 

SATIRIST. 

Know ye what curious thing 
To me would be most dear ? 
If I could but talk and sing 
What none would list to hear. 

( The midnight and the tomb-Poets send their excuses, 
being just engaged in a most interesting conversation 
ivith an erst arisen Vampire, from which a new school 



FAUST. 



of poetry may possibly originate ; the Herald is com- 
pelled to accept their excuses, and summons the Grecian 
Mythology in the meantime, which, even in its modern 
mask, has neither lost its peculiar character nor its 
agreeable appearance.) 

THE GRACES. 
AGLAIA. 

Grace we bring to all below ; 

Ah ! with grace vour gifts bestow. 

HE&E3IOXE. 

And with grace receive them ever, 
If to charm you'd fain endeavour, 

E L'PHROSYNE. 

And with grace your thanks be given; 
So may earth become a Heaven ! 

the parc-E, (Fates.) 

ATROPOS. 

I for spinning ever rife. 
To your feast have been invited ; 
All the tender threads of life 
By my art must be united. 

I must gloss and sift so lightly 
Finest flax to form your days : 
It must gleam and sparkle brightly 
Where my finger wisely strays. 

Should ye joy without reflection, 
Should ye gladness' echoes wake, 
Call this thread to recollection, — 
Check your follies — it may break ! 

CLOTHO. 

Know, ye troop of motley visors, 
Sister oft the thread did tear ; 



FAUST. 



So the all-potential scissors 
Were entrusted to my care, 

Useless and unmeaning spirits 
Long she held in life and light ; 
Others with most princely merits, 
Deep consigned to endless night. 

I, alas ! have erred too often, 
Unaccustomed to my place ; 
So your fears this night to soften, 
Stick my scissors in my case. 

Then for once I'll be a rover, 
Joining in your festive throng ; 
May each maiden seek her lover, 
Lightly trip with dance and song. 

LACHESIS. 

I, alone possessed of reason. 
Must the motley feast control ; 
Ne'er at any wondrous season 
Did my reel too quickly roll. 

Threads approach and circles shaping, 
Follow up their bounden way, 
None from my control escaping, 
Each in order round I lay. 

Should I once forget my duty, 
All the world might hope resign ; 
Then adieu to sense, to beauty,— 
Weavers then my rope might twine. 

HERALD. 

Those who are coming now ye scarce will know, 
However wise and sage ye chance to be ; 
For they are fosterers of misery, 
Although with joy and smiles they seem to glow 



28 



FAUST. 



They are the Furies ! That you'll scarce believe 
So pretty, laughing, youthful, sweet, and kind ! 
Make their acquaintance, and ye soon will find 
Such doves, like snakes who glitter, may deceive. 

'Tis true they're deep and cunning, yet to-day, 
When every fool his faults will bring to light, 
They ask not to be deemed a heavenly sight, 
But own that mischief is their only play. 

ALECTO. 

What though we do, we still shall be your dears, 
For we are fair, and young, and heart beguilers ; 
And if a maid you love, we sweet revilers 
Will ever murmur in your gaping ears, 

Until we openly can tell at last — 

That she has smiles for all, and simpers bold ; 

That she is silly, crooked, lame, or old, 

And though your bride through many a hand has 

Then to the bride we chant the selfsame strains : 
Her ardent lover but a week ago 
Spoke of her thus and thus to so and so ! 
Even if they reconcile a grudge remains, 

MEGARA. 

That's only play ! but when they're once united, 
My turn is come, and then with one and all, 
The happiest fate by fancies I can gall ; 
And man is ne'er the same, and oft benighted, 

And he who clasps the treasure in his arms 
For aye some other treasure will desire — 
He turns from fortune, shuns the glowing fire, 
And flies the sun to seek in frost for charms. 

All this I know ; Asmodi aids my cares, 
And joins me in my mischief making task; 
Together in misfortune's night we bask, 
And thus destroy mankind in endless pains. 



FAUST. 



TISIPHONE. 

Poison in their cups I throw, 
Daggers for their breasts I bare, 
Who can seek a second fair, 
And the first desert to woe. 

In their very happiest hour, 
Grief shall claim them for her own ; 
O'er their days a shade is thrown; 
Death and madness be their dower ! 

Vainly would the maids forgive, 
Even to rocks for aid I'll cry ; 
" Vengeance !" echoes shall reply, 
He who changes dare not live ! 

HERALD. 

Now, fair ones, if it please ye, all give place ! 
New guests approach, not of your kind or race ; 
See ye not yonder mountain slowly nearing 
With gold and jewels bedeck'd, and proudly rearing 
Its lofty head, w T ith pointed teeth and snout ? 
The import 's dark, yet I will find it out. 
With ivory wand that still the monster guides, 
A tender maid the bulky neck bestrides ; 
Behind her stands another still more fair, 
By rays surrounded, which most brightly glare, 
And on each side a female chained is seen, 
One sad, one gay, but both of noble mien ; 
The one desires, the other dreads and blames, 
Which of ye all can tell their names ? 

FEAR. 

Shadowy lights and fading tapers 
Flit the lofty halls around, 
'Midst these lying masks and vapours, 
By my chain behold me bound ! 



30 



FAUST. 



Hence, ye laughers I ye confound me, 
Grins so huge offend my sight ; 
All my deadliest foes surround me 
On this dark, portentous night. 

There's a mask so dimly peeping, — 
'Tis a friend become a foe ; 
Lo ! that ruffian softly creeping ; 
He would stab me ! — that I know. 

Would that I could shun creation, 
Or from earth's horizon fly ! 
But that dark annihilation 
Makes me dread to live or die. 

HOPE. 

Sisters fair, I greet ye kindly ! 
We've been masking somewhat blindly, 
Or, to speak without evasion, 
Badly up to this occasion ; 
But I'm sure that on the morrow 
earth All the charms of life you'll borrow ; 

And display, as bound in duty, 
All the light and life of beauty. 
Then though midnight fetes and dancing 
May not all be too entrancing, 
Still in summer days so merry 
We may roam and pluck the berry, 
Or in meditation wander 
Where the gentle streams meander, 
Or may saunter, softly straying, 
On the green where childhood 's playing 
Whilst with time we lightly dally, 
All the earth we'll wander round, 
On some hill or in some valley 
True delight will yet be found. 



FAUST. 



31 



WISDOM. 

Fear and Hope, of all mankind, 
Deadliest foes ye here behold ; 
With these fetters both I bind, 
And from deeds of death withhold. 

On the tower's most lofty height, 
See that lovely goddess stand, 
Whilst her wings, half-spread for flight, 
Radiance cast o'er sea and land. 

Beaming round in each direction, 
Glow the lights of endless fame ; 
She is Goddess of Perfection, 
And Victoria is her name. 

ZOILO-THERSITES. 

I come at a happy hour, ye fools, 

Of wisdom apes, of folly tools, 

To laugh at all asses — Ha, ha ! ha, ha ! 

And to humble your Miss Victoria. 

With her silvery pinions all stretched out, 

She thinks she's an eagle, a phcenix, no doubt ; 

That wherever she goes or wherever she flies, 

Victoria's are lands, peoples, oceans, and skies ; 

But all that glows with noble fire, 

With courage or virtue, awakes my ire ; 

The great must be small, and the small must be great, 

The straight must be crooked, the crooked be straight, 

Till wrong and right are clean capsized, 

The earth by me shall ne'er be prized. 

HERALD. 

And darest thou thus fair virtue blur, 
Thou lump of dirt, thou filthy cur ? 
My trusty staff thy ribs shall spur 



FAUST. 



There ! curve thee, bend thee, twist thee i 
Malicious dwarf, thy neck shall bow ! 
See ! how his members part and fall, — 
They form a round, a hideous ball ; — 
The ball extends — an egg behold ! 
It breaks, it bursts — and out are rolled 
Upon a spider's web, the ladder, 
Such twins — a bat, and then an adder ! 
One creeps in dust with gleaming eyes, 
The other blindly upwards flies; 
Without they'll meet in the midnight air, 
I would not be the third one there. 

crowd, {murmuring.) 

Quick ! they 're dancing there behind — 
No — away ! how cold 's the wind — 
In my locks strange knots are wound, 
Airy forms are dancing round ! — 
O'er my neck what breezes scour — 
On my feet what reptiles cower — 
Oh, I tremble ! — Sister, aid — ■ 
In my arms thou lovely maid — 
Loud the tumult — dark the air — 
Hither, thither — foul and fair — 
Woe, Confusion, Death, Despair ! 

HERALD. 

Fear not Maskers ! 'tis a charm 

Cannot work us mortals harm. 

Locks are loosened, breasts are lightened. 

None are injured, all are frightened. 

Ne'er since I this office held 

Have I such-like scene beheld. 

Lo ! it dies the airy blast — 

Smile again I the danger's past. 

No ! at yonder casement-mark ! 

Troops of spirits strange and dark 



FAUST. 



33 



Crowd within the lofty hall. 
Range them o'er the marble wall ; 
Wondrous were the dwarf's wild gambols, 
Now a host of spirits' scrambles !— 
Lo ! behind us wild commotion ! 
Like the boisterous waves of ocean, 
Crowds around a car are torn, 
Which by winged steeds is borne 
With a wild and rocky motion. 
Yet how strange ! 'tis thin as air, 
Vapours of an autumn morning, 
Indistinct, but wondrous fair, — 
Lamps the magic car adorning, 
Gleam like stars in azure skies — 
Round it light and radiance flies: 
Lo ! it comes with fury sweeping, 
Like a comet, bounding — leaping. 
Who the mystery can unfold ? — ■ 
Masks — give way — I shudder ! 

BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

Hold !— 

Coursers, cease your bounding flight, 
Own your Lord's, your Master's might ; 
When I check ye, calm your fire, 
Onwards rush when I inspire — 
Pause, my steeds, and rest ye now ! 
See the masks in homage bow, 
Round our car in crowds collecting. 
Herald, haste ! — the feast directing, 
'Tis thy task thy guests to know ; — 
Say, who are we? — what portending? 
On our forms thy keen eye bending,— 
Name us ! Canst thou ? — Ay, or no ! 

HERALD. 

No, I cannot name ye so, 

But in words your looks I'll shew, 

D 



FAUST. 



BOY-CHARIOTEER, 

Try, then ! 

HERALD. 

This I first must say : 
You are young and fair as day ; 
A half-grown boy, — and yet the maids, 1 swear, 
The budding youth a full-grown man declare. 
You seem a reveller in wanton bliss, — - 
An arrant rogue. 

BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

You err not much in this ! 
Proceed ! proceed ! — What lurks beneath the rose, 
Our strange enigma's sense disclose. 

HERALD. 

The lightning of thy eyes, thy tresses bright 
By jewels encircled, gleam in radiant light. 
And what a garment, fair and white, 

Falls from thy shoulders to thy feet, 
Encircled by a band, where pearls and rubies meet 
As maiden we might mock the boy, 
And yet I doubt not he hath proved him 
Full many a maiden's fear and joy, 
And many a maid hath feared, yet loved him.— 

BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

And he who here in royal state 

Upon the chariot's throne is placed ? — 

HERALD. 

He seems a monarch rich and great, 
With noble mien and visage graced ; — 
Upon his lofty brow content 
And unrestricted power I view, — 
Vainly in words my breath is spent; 
So great is he, so fair are you. 



FAUST. 



35 



BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

No, no I — survey us now minutely, 
Explain, describe us more acutely. 

HERALD. 

Explain — describe — the rich and fair !— 
Oh, vain the task ! — the lofty air, 
The rosy cheeks, the fat round face 
That beams with such a lofty grace, — 
The Monarch's turban — and his dress— - 
On which to lay the greatest stress 
I know not ; — pray your names unfold ! 

BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

He 's Plutus, called the God of Gold- 
Zeal for your Emperor inspires him, 
The worthy Monarch much requires him. 

HERALD. 

And you yourself — what may you chance to be ? 

BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

Profusion, Fancy, Poesy ; 
I am the Poet, who, however poor, 
In fancy's realms to endless wealth can soar;— 

And though friend Plutus rich may be, 

Yet wealthier far am I than he ; — 
His every joy I measure, 

I am the boundless source of laughing pleasure, 

HERALD. 

You talk it bravely, sir ; but shew 
Your arts to mortals here helow ! — 

BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

Well ! — see me raise my ivory wand, 
And wave it round me ; there are gleams 
Of light — and there a diamond band, 
And there a ruby necklace beams— 

[Constantly striking round him. 



36 



FAUST. 



And earrings, too, of snow-white pearls, 
And costly gems for smiling girls ; 
Lo ! flame on flame I cast around me, 
And diamonds, rubies, pearls, surround me. 

HERALD. 

And dames and maids to seize them burn ; 
The giver knows not where to turn. 
How beam his gems, how gleam his eyes, 
Beneath his wand what treasures rise ! 
But, lo ! another roguish trick : — 
Whatever gems the maid may pick, 
She gains but little for her trouble ; 
Each precious jewel proves a bubble. 
There breaks the brilliant diamond band, 
And beetles crawl upon her hand. 
The ruby necklace — sad surprise ! 
Is turned to chains of butterflies. 
How many gems the varlet fritters, 
Alas ! not all is gold that glitters. 

boy-charioteer, {after a pause.) 

Well, Herald, — masks thou canst announce, 'tis true 

Describe their shape and colour — black or blue ; — 

But read their import, and with conscious pride 

Their purpose tell. This is to thee denied ! 

For thou art quickly mystified. 

But not by bootless strife, and words detained to be 

Most mighty Lord, I turn to thee ! 

{Addressing himself to Plutus.) 

Hast thou not aye entrusted to my care, 
The guardance of these coursers of the air ? 
Do I not turn wherever thou dost guide ? 
Doth not my chariot, where thou pointest, ride ? 
Have I not gained with toil for thee 
The glorious palm of victory ? 



FAUST. 



37 



Though oft in furious war I strove, 
Yet conquest aye my labours crowned ; 
If laurel-wreaths thy brow surround, 
'Twas I alone the leafy chaplet wove. 

PLUTUS. 

My attestation, list !. Most loudly I declare 

Thou of my essence art the essence rare ; 

Ever like me thou actest, and I vow 

Far richer than myself art thou : 

More than my golden crowns of state, 

Thy emblem green, the branch, I estimate. 

My tongue shall speak what still my pen inditeth : — 

In thee, O son ! thy father's heart delighteth. 

BOY-CHARIOTEER, (to the CTOwd.) 

The weightiest gifts my hand bestows 
I cast among ye, friends and foes ; 
On some few heads still brightly beams 
A fragment of my golden gleams. 
From man to man they quickly leap, 
Here pause to burn, there sink to sleep : 
But rarely mounts a flame divine 
In passing light and life to shine ; 
Too often, not to sight revealed, 
They sink in death by night concealed. 

women, {prating confusedly.) 
Who stands upon the chariot there ? 
A merry-andrew I declare ; 
Look at the fool, he stoops behind — 
How lean ! a sport for every wind ; 
No flesh — all bone and hide, like steel — 
Pinch him, good friends — he cannot feel ! 

THE LEAN ONE. 

Away, thou odious female race ! 

I know ye never would welcome rny face — ■ 

E 



38 



FAUST. 



When wives turned the spindles, by night and by day, 

My name was Avaritia ; 

Then luck was found the house about, 

Then much came in, and nothing went out, 

And well my trusty chests I kept, 

Spared — woke, whilst others slept and spent ! — 

But now that, in these latter days, 

Wives dance, and dress, and sing love-lays, 

And never one moment think on sparing, 

But rattle to ruin, like racers tearing, 

The husband hath much to bear, poor man ! 

Turn where he will — do what he can ! — 

His helpmate steals his little store 

For her appointed paramour ; 

Lightly and gladly feasteth she, 

While he is racked by misery. — 

I am a virtue, miscalled a vice, 

Of masculine gender, Sir Avarice ! 

CHIEF WOMAN. 

Miserly griffins, hoarding their treasures, 

Our mortal husbands have ever been ; 

Now comes this wretch to teach them new measures 

For baulking and spoiling our feminine pleasures, 

The envious villain — anatomy lean ! 

women, [altogether confusedly.) 

Old dirty fellow ! — box his ears ! — 

What ! will this wretch to face us dare ? 

This skeleton of breeding bare ? — 

Dread ye no griffins — idle fears ! 

Seize on the rogue — bite, scratch, pinch, tear ! 

HERALD. 

Peace, ho ! — my staff I raise before ye — 
But, lo ! my voice ye scarce will need ; 



FAUST. 



39 



Mark, how each winged griffin steed 
Flaps his extended pinions o'er ye. 
Their fiery jaws they open wide. 
And forth bright flames of anger glide, 
Like horns of fire they dart to gore ye — 
Ye haste, ye fly ! — behind ! before me ! 

(Plutus descends from the chariot.) 

HERALD. 

Lo ! he descends, with royal grace ! 
He signs — the griffins fly apace, 
And bear to earth, Sirs, in a trice 
The chest of gold and Avarice ! — 
Before him stood the man, the tun ; 
With speed untold the task is done. 

plutus, (to the Boy-Charioteer.) 

Now, from thy weighty load, behold thee, free ! 

Mount to thy spheres apace, in joy and glee ! — 

Here thou art out of place ; a thousand bands 

Here check thy lightsome steps, and chain thy hands. 

But where amidst the pure and azure skies 

Soft tones of love from magic voices rise, 

Where, in thyself thou breathest, and dark hate 

Is banished, — there — thy fancied world create ; — 

There, where thick matter's rules no longer bound thee s 

Let bowers of fair perfection bloom around thee J 

BOY-CHARIOTEER. 

Still, as thy envoy, I myself regard ; 

Still feel myself thy son and loving ward ; 

Where'er thou tarriest, Plenty still is seen, 

And Fortune follows me through every scene. 

Created beings waver to decide 

If thou or I be life's most fitting guide ; 

e 2 



40 



FAUST. 



Thy votaries aye may rest in gentle peace, 
My followers' train their labours never cease. 
My deeds are ne'er performed by stealth, alone, 
I breathe aloud — and am already known : 
Farewell — farewell ! I mount to Joy's domain — 
Speak but my name, and I am here again. 

{He departs as he came.) 

PLUTUS. 

The time is come bright treasures to reveal ! 

The locks I touch with yonder Herald's wand. 

The chest flies open ! — lo, in jars of steel, 

Lie heaps of ore around ; the jars expand, 

And crowns, and chains, and rings, all heaped so wil 

Smile on all gazers temptingly and mildly. 

crowd, {confused.) 
O look 1 O look ! how high it soars, 
Up to the rim the treasure pours. 
It melts ! the golden vessels melt, 
The money runs as if it felt ; 
Lo I how the ducats skip and jump — 
Hark ! how my heart for gold does thump ! 
How can I ever gaze enough ? 
Lo ! there they pick the shining stuff. 
'Tis offered ; haste the prize to seize ; 
All shall be rich of all degrees I 
Ye kneel and steal along the floor, 
Here in the chests' our golden store. 

HERALD. 

Why have ye, fools, this riot awoke ? 
'Tis but a masquerading joke ! 
Who would expect aught more to-night ? 
Ask ye for gold and diamonds bright? 
The basest coins, for children's toys, 
Were far too good for your light joys ! 



FAUST. 



Ye awkward fools — reality, 

Ye think a pleasing trick must be ! — 

Reality ! ye senseless elves, 

Repent your folly, know yourselves ! 

Oh, Plutus ! masquerading hero, 

Teach thou the fools that naught is Zero ! 

PLUTUS. 

Thy wand will do me service here, 
Entrust it to me — nothing fear ! 
Lo, in yon molten ore I dip it — 
Now, maskers ! ward ye, dance, and trip it ! 
Behold it sparkle, blaze, and lighten, 
Mark how the flames the knaves shall frighten 
He who too near approaches now, 
This wand shall singe across the brow. 
Lo ! in my circle thus I turn. 

crowd, (shouting, tumultuously .) 

Woe, woe — I singe ! Woe, woe — I burn ! 
Oh, fly, fly, fly ! — here's naught to earn ! 
Back, back, behind there ! twist and turn ! — 
Gods ! in my face the sparks are cast — 
Through all my locks the flame has past — 
Oh, we are lost — lost — lost for aye — 
Back — back, behind there — hence ! away ! 
Back ! back ! give way ! yet more ! yet more I 
Oh, had I wings I'd upwards soar. 

PLUTUS. 

Already, lo, the crowd retires ! — 
Yet none are scorched by these false fires- 
Now there-— now here, 
They fly in fear ; 
But, lo ! bright order to secure, 
And make the spell's effect more sure : 



42 



FAUST. 



A magic circle round I trace, 
Which none can pass in all the place, 
Save those I mark with special grace. 

(The chest and treasures have all melted to one mass of 
fiery ore, which appears to spring constantly from the 
earth in the form of a fountain. Plutus draios a circle 
at some distance round it.) 

HERALD, (to Plutus.) 

Lightly hast thou thy task fulfilled ; 
Accept my thanks — the tumult's stilled. 

PLUTUS. 

Ay, but it soon again will rise ; 
But to return disorder flies ! 

avarice, (who stands within the circle, by the side of the 
fiery fountain.) 

Well ! now in quiet peace and rest, 

I can regard the busy scene around — 

Fair woman's always to be found 

Where'er there's aught to pick or gape at. Lest 

I should offend, however, now I'll say 

No more, for though not young I still am gay — 

A bright November, though no smiling May — 

And so I yet would woo the fair ; 

But as in this o'er-crowded, heated place, 

The tongue is heard not, now my hands and face 

Shall strive my amorous meaning to express, 

And pantomimically say no less 

Than any tongue can prate. This molten gold 

Shall serve my purpose : I the ball will press, 

Till by its means, a suitor bold, 

I can my heart's desires to maids and dames unfold- 



FAUST. 



43 



HERALD. 

What is that lean-ribbed knave about ? 

Would the old wretch our fair ones flout ? 

Lo ! how the ore, like paste, he moulds, 

Now hides and then again unfolds. 

Still, still he toils, and works in vain — 

The ore no settled form will gain. 

Now to the women there he turns, 

Small thanks for all his toil he earns, 

They shout and scream, and rage and storm — 

Two kissing lips the knave would form ! 

I may not suffer such wild riot, 

Give me the wand to keep him quiet. 

PLUTUS. 

Leave him in peace — he knows not who approach- 
Let him his silly follies broach ! 
No room for his poor tricks will now remain !— 
Though thou thy wand of Law on high should'st wave, 
He might thy herald's office brave — 
But all to fate must yield, and destiny's dark chain. 

(tumultuous uproar, and chorus.) 

The savage rout we now must hail, 
From mountain wild and peaceful vale ; 
They come in boundless force and state, 
Their mighty Pan they celebrate, 
What none but they can know, they know, 
And haste to hail us here below. 

PLUTUS. 

Ye, and your mighty Pan, I recognise, 
Others ye may deceive — not blind mine eyes ; 
What none else know save ye, right well I know, 
And hail your wild host gladly here below. 
May fortune smile upon your train— 



44 



"FAUST. 



Yet I foresee most strange adventures 
Traced for this night on Fate's indentures — 
But, onwards ! — fear no lasting pain ! 

SAVAGE CHORUS. 

Ye trembling courtiers, spruce and fine, 
Look at my limbs — and mine — and mine ! — 
Wield high the clubs, and leap around, 
And boldly jump and fiercely bound — 
Aha ! our steps shall burst the ground. 

FAWNS. 

The Fawn comes now 

Like the mountain wind, 

The oak wreath twined 

Round his youthful brow: 
A finely-pointed ear, I ween, 
Through all his darksome locks is seen, 
His snubby nose, and his chubby face, 
From women shall ever win favour and grace 
The sweetest nymph, and the fairest maid, 
Will dance with the fawn in the forest glade. 

SATYRS. 

The Satyr comes hopping and leaping in, 
With cloven foot and leg so thin, 
Yet sturdy and active the race to win : 
Aloft on the mountains, so merrily, 
To stray 'mid the white clouds rejoices he ! 
Wild freedom's air still breathing there, 
He gazes with scorn on the slaves of care, 
Who, far below, in their vales of woe, 
Dream in their folly that life they know, 
Whilst he alone, on his mountain throne 
Can claim true life and light his own. 



FAUST. 



45 



GNOMES. 

The little train comes creeping here 
That still society doth fear, 
And loves by winsome torches' light 
To work alone in realms of night ; 
And thus like glow-worms in the dell 
To sparkle each in his own small cell. 
They labour on, now here — now there — 
With zealous toil and patience rare. 

The fairy elves we know right well, 

And many a tale of their sports could tell ; 

As mountain-leeches, rocks we cup, 

And when gold from their veins comes bubbling up, 

To seize and mould it we never fail, 

And still we cry loudly — all hail ! — all hail ! 

And this we do in charitie, 

For gladly we good men's friends would be. 

But ah ! the gold that shines so bright 

Is turned to uses black as night ; 

'Tis the prize for theft and for virgin shame, 

And iron is murder's sword of flame ; 

And they who commandments three despise 

Can never, alas, the others prize ! 

But how should we poor earthworms know 

That evil from good would thus quickly flow ? 

GIANTS. 

On the mountains of the Hartz dwell we, 
And our nature is wild, as ye plainly see ; 
With naked force and giant-like might, 
We come like the shadows of dark midnight! 
Around the body a weighty band, 
A young pine's trunk in the outstretched hand, 
And a leafy apron below are seen — 
No Pope hath a train like to us, I ween. 



4e> 



FAUST. 



nymphs in chorus, {surrounding the mighty Pan.) 

Each mortal man 

To earth must bow ; 

Behold him now, 

The mighty Pan ! 
Ye graceful maids around him fly 
In lightsome mirth and revelry ; 
He sees you dance, with joy elate, 
For he is good as he is great ; 
When under the bright and azure skies, 
In the glade of the forest he sleeping lies, 
Then scarcely murmur the gentle streams, 
The zephyrs lie hushed in day's golden beams, 
And the tiny leaf on the branch so high 
Moves not, but slumbers tranquilly. 
An odour sweet from the smiling flowers 
Creeps all around through the forest bowers: 
Each gentle nymph, like some half-closed rose, 
Sinks where she leans to sleep's calm repose. 
But when in accents loud and deep 
His voice of a sudden wakes earth from sleep, 
Then forest and rock, and mead and fell, 
In mingled echoes, their homage tell, 
And the winds, like hosts on a battle plain, 
Meet with a shock on their course again. 
Honour for ever to Pan be paid — 
Hail to the King of the Forest-glade ! 

deputation of the gnomes, (to the mighty Pan.) 

When the dark red ore is lying 
In the mountain's gloomy cave, 
We its secret haunts descrying, 
O'er them rods of magic wave. 

Opes the rock, and forth the treasures 
From their home to earth we bring ; 



FAUST. 



Thou receiv'st them King of Pleasures, 
Round thee gold in heaps dost fling. 

In this hall a wondrous fountain 
Even now we chanced to find; 
Pearly lake and ruby mountain 
Never stores like these combined. 

Gold and gems, like waves are flowing — 
Thou, O King their guardian be ! 
So on all the world bestowing 
What we Gnomes bestow on thee. 

plutus, (to the Herald.) 

Collectedly, we now an awful scene 

Must mark; regard it thou, with changeless mien, 

And let what must be, be, with resignation. 

A wondrous miracle 'tis ours to view, 

Posterity will swear the tale's untrue, 

Thy Protocol must give it confirmation. 

herald, (grasping one end of the staff which Plutus 
still holds) 

To yon fiery fountain, in pomp and pride, 

The mighty Pan the pigmies' guide ; 

The red waves pour from their inmost source, 

They rush on high with magic force, 

Then sink again in their wondrous course ; 

Once more the bright flame gleams on high, 

The mighty Pan smiles joyously, 

Admires the strange and wondrous spell, 

And stares at the foam from the fiery well. 

How can he trust these sorceries so — 

Lo ! now he bends to gaze below. 

Ah — see ! his beard hath fallen in! — 

Sure, I must know that smooth, white chin ? 



48 



FAUST. 



His hand conceals it from our eyes — 
But lo ! the beard — most sad surprise ! 
Back from the source all flaming flies, 
And sets wreath, locks, and breast on fire, 
Raging in wild and furious ire. 
Lo ! hastes the crowd to quench the flame- 
Alas ! their fate is now the same. 
In vain they strike, and strike around, 
For higher still the flames rebound ; 
Wild fire in circles round them turns, 
And, lo, a host of maskers burns ! 
But, ah, what tidings dire I hear 
Born quickly on, from ear to ear ! 
Oh, most unhappy, luckless night, 
For ever cursed thy deadly spite ! 
The morrow must a tale disclose, 
A tale of endless grief and woes ; 
Around they cry, in concord dire, 
" The Emperor burns in this wild fire." 
Oh, were it false! Again — again — 
" The Emperor burns with all his train." 
Then cursed be they, who led him here, 
With tarry pitch his form to smear, 
To join the wild Bacchantic throng, 
And rush with them to death along. 
Oh, Youth: — wild Youth ! thou source of 
Wilt thou no boundary ever know ? 
Oh, Greatness — Greatness ! shall thy pow< 
Be never tamed by reason's dower ? 

A sea of flames around is spread, 
On high they raise each serpent head, 
And twine them o'er the ceiling high — 
One universal ruin's nigh ! 
Full to the brim the cup of woe — 
What now can save us, who can know ? 



FAUST. 



49 



Imperial halls of living light, 
The victims of one fearful night. 

PLUTUS. 

Tremble, magic spells have made ye ; 
Magic now shall haste to aid ye ! — 
Sacred staff salute the ground, 
Make the earth in wonder bound ! 
Vapours, sweet, and kind, and fair, 
Fill the hot and sultry air ! 
Silvery clouds come floating lightly, 
Hide the flames that beam so brightly, 
White your hue as coral isles! — 
Zephyrs breathing, clouds enwreathing, 
Fan the fire to peace and rest 
Ere ye seek the rose's breast ; 
Clouds and breezes, mingling ever, 
Must the fiery spell dissever — 
Danger flies and gladness smiles ! — 
Would dark spirits work ye harm, 
Magic power shall break their charm. 



SCENE IV. 

Imperial gardens. — Early morning. — The Emperor, his 
train, courtiers and ladies. — Faust and Mephisto- 
pheles {clad becomingly, and according to the fashion 
of the times); both kneel. 

FAUST. 

Sire, may this Fiery Gambol pardoned be ? 

emperor, (motioning them to rise.) 

Such pleasantries as these I love to see. 
Around me I beheld a gleaming sphere, 
Pluto himself I seemed, or Pluto's peer. 



50 



FAUST. 



On night and darkness based, a rocky cave 
Before me lay : forth rushed the fiery wave : 
A thousand wild and angry flames uniting, 
Soared to the sky, our halls with splendour lighting : 
Like some Cathedral's vast and Gothic dome, 
Their forms entwined — the fire-born spirit's home. 
A thousand flaming columns round me beamed, 
And through them hosts of mortals wildly streamed, 
Myriads of forms that towards me bent their way, 
And kneeling homage paid in bright array — 
I viewed my courtiers through the flames' meanders, 
And seemed a Lord of endless Salamanders. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Ay, so thou art ! The elements in thee 

Behold and dread the source of Majesty. 

Fire thou hast dared in fierce and wild commotion ; 

Now, if it please thee, prove thy power on ocean ! 

Before thee streams divide — the pearly ground 

Receives thee 'midst its treasures, while around 

The bright green waves that gleam in sunset's ray, 

A purple hall of light beside thy way 

Raise as in homage. Wander as thou mayst, 

The watery wall shall rise where'er thou stray'st. 

There thou beholdest through the crystal tide, 

In eager motion ocean's dwellers glide. 

They see thee, wondering, through the watery glass, 

But none the boundary of thy path may pass; 

There, golden monsters gleam with scaly vest, 

There grins the shark of fellest carnage guest ; 

All gaze on thee, all pay thee homage now, 

Even as thy mortal train were wont to bow. 

And fairest forms are there, their charms revealing ; 

Young Nereids haste, and ardent passion's feeling 

Gleams in their blue eyes ; timid some — some bold : 

Gladly round thee each maid white arms would fold. 



FAUST. 



Thetis, their youthful Queen, amidst them see ! 
A second Peleus — lo ! she welcomes thee. 
Her couch on high Olympus thou mayst share ! 

EMPEROR. 

Be thine those realms of void and empty air— 
I am not eager for so vain a throne. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

And mighty Lord! this earth is all thy own. 

EMPEROR. 

What happy chance hath led thee to our court, 
Thou wondrous source of fun, and joy, and sport 
Sorcerers like thee, in famed Arabian Nights, 
Called hourly into being fresh delights. 
If like Sheherazade, that empress fair, 
Thy brain can daily coin some fancy rare, 
Our favour shall be thine, and oft will we 
In Phantasy's bright realm forget Reality ! 

{Enter the Master of the Household, hastily.) 

master of the household, (to the Emperor 

Imperial Sire, I never thought again 

To bear such charming news as those 
Which now delight my heart and brain ! 

With joy my every fibre glows. 
Our bills are paid, full twenty to the score, 
Our cursed usurers shall dun no more : 
We've cash wherewith to pay — wherewith to buy- 
I'll kick the man who's half so glad as I. 

general, {following him hastily.) 

Huzza — the soldiers' paid at last- 
Now all the army breaks its fast ! 



5*2 FAUST. 

Now feast the merry Lancer boys, 
And host and maiden share their joys. 

EMPEROR. 

Gods ! what delight your breasts inspires! 

What joy your very being fires ! 

What gladness wings your gouty members ! 

treasurer, (pointing to Faust and Mephistopheles. 

These are the men who fanned joy's dying embers. — 
Inquire of them ! 

EAUST. 

No ; let the Chancellor speak ! 

chancellor, [approaching slowly.) 

Ay, if I can, for joy has made me weak. — 
Hear then, and view this mighty piece of paper, 
That's made a bonfire of a fading taper, 
And caused even dying men to cut one caper ! 

[He reads. 

" Be't known to all who throng our nether earth, 

This bill one thousand crowns shall aye be worth. 

In this our land lie heaps of buried gold 

Which we as pledge for due redemption hold ; 

Therefore have we already taken measures 

To dig from earth these vast and golden treasures." 

emperor. 

Ha ! impious falsehood — most abhorred deceit ! 
W 7 ho dared to forge my name ? Produce the cheat — 
The wretch shall die ! — D'ye think me deaf, or blind ? 

TREASURER. 

Most mighty Sire, 'twas thou thyself that signed, 
And that last night; as mighty Pan attired, 
Thou stood'st admiring much, and more admired! 



FAUST. 



53 



The Chancellor approached thee. " Sire," quoth he, 

" Grant to thy subjects kind prosperity : 

'Tis thine to give — this little paper sign !" 

And sign thou didst — such mighty grace was thine. 

Forthwith by wondrous art ten thousand fold 

The bill we multiplied and stamped as gold. 

And lo ! by this one act thou'st saved the nation ! — 

Gaze where thou wilt, the joyous celebration 

Of this new Age of Gold must meet thine eyes ! 

To grins and laughter changed are tears and sighs. 

Though long the world with joy thy name has seen, 

So gladly viewed, it ne'er till now hath been, 

One of its letters' worth in gold to get, 

Each man would quickly give his Alphabet. 

EMPEROR. 

What ! do my people take these rags for gold ? 
Murmurs no courtier gay — no warrior bold ? 
Well, if it must be so, I'll not say nay. 

MASTER OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

The paper-coinage now must take its way ! 
'Twere vain to check it; round the notes are spread — 
By notes alone the hungry poor are fed : 
The banks accept them, (with a slight reduction,) 
And none would seek to give their course obstruction. 
Butchers and bakers now have work in plenty, 
Each publican must act the part of twenty; 
The tailors snip and cut, and snip away — 
Sure ne'er before was seen so blest a day : 
" Vivat the Emperor !" in the streets they cry — 
They sing, they drink, they dance — they boil, they roast, 
they fry. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Full many a maid in this imperial city, 
By paper notes may now be wooed to pity ; 

F 



54 



FAUST. 



They know the joys such papers will afford, 

And hail the paper-bearer as their lord. 

Notes are the arrows of the boy-god Love, 

That victims wound in court, and camp, and grove ; 

Notes summon lazy Hymen from his sphere, 

And make him play a thousand antics here. 

Within his breviary the priest can place them, 

The soldier to his belt may tightly lace them, 

The maid beneath her snow-white vest embrace them. 

Pardon me, Sire, if I too far should go 

In this my brief and weak attempt to shew 

What vast effects from such great cause will flow. 

FAUST. 

-111 

With ; your empire's soil, great Majesty, 

Most wondrous treasures unemployed do lie ; 

The boldest thought that mortal minds can trace, 

May ne'er the grandeur of those stores embrace : 

Fancy herself, even in her wildest flight, 

Would but o'ershoot her mark, and sink in night ! 

Yet noble spirits, doubt can never scathe, 

They place in boundless wonders boundless faith. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Papers like these seem more convenient far 

Than gold and gems, which coarse and weighty are ; 

Besides, the gold may sometimes want due weight — 

False pearls have oft been passed about of late; 

But let stars shine, or rains fall, as they will, 

Come fair, come foul, paper is paper still. 

Drink, kiss, and laugh, — cut ballet-dancers' capers, 

For money-changers give ye gold for papers, 

If gold ye need. Whate'er the scoffers say — 

The wonder's novelty will pass away, 

With it all doubt; and henceforth all will know 

Paper is gold, since all do say 'tis so. 



FAUST. 



55 



EMPEROR, (to the TREASURER and FAUST.) 

Our empire owes this blessing to your aid, 

So vast a service must be well repaid. 

These subterranean stores of endless worth, 

That lurk beneath the surface of the earth, 

Be't yours to guard ! Ye know those shining treasures — 

Do ye, when labourers seek them, prompt their measures. 

Conjoin, ye masters of our treasury, 

Soon let us fruits of your twin labours see : 

'Tis yours by matchless science to unite 

These realms of day with nether realms of night, 

And bring the latter's hidden stores to light. 

TREASURER. 

My sage co-mate I'll gladly hail at present, 
And fear no discord in a task so pleasant. 

[Exeunt treasurer and faust. 

EMPEROR. 

Something, my friends, I'll give to all of you ; 
Now all confess what use you'll put it to. 

page, (receiving.) 
In jovial glee and mirth carouse will I. 

another, (also receiving.) 
A ring and chain for my dear love I'll buy. 

chamberlain, (accepting.) 
I'll drink a better wine, Sire, in a trice. 

another, (accepting.) 
Already itch my fingers for the dice. 

old cavalier, (taking the gift, after due consideration.) 

To him who holds my mortgage I'll convey it. 

f 2 



56 



FAUST. 



another, {likewise deliberately.) 
This is a treasure — I'll to treasures lay it. 

EMPEROR. 

I hoped for nobler zeal and loftier measures, 
But he who knows ye, well might guess your pleasures. 
Had ye an endless mine of wealth, I see, 
, That which ye once have been, ye aye must be. 

fool, (approaching.) 
You're granting favours — let me have my part. 

EMPEROR. 

Ah ! — thou'rt alive again ! With all my heart. 

[He drops some of them. 

FOOL. 

These magic leaves! — good sooth, I can't conceive them. 

EMPEROR. 

Perchance 'twere best for thee on earth to leave them. 

FOOL. 

Others are falling — may these all be mine ? 

EMPEROR. 

Ay, take them, fool — and, taking, make them thine ! 

[Exit, followed by all the courtiers. 

FOOL. 

Five thousand crowns ! and mine — all mine, he said. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Two-legged cask, art risen from the dead ? 

FOOL. 

Right oft I rise — but not to joys like this. 



FAUST. 



mephistopheles, {ironically.) 
His brow perspires with wild excess of bliss. 

FOOL. 

Is this as good as gold ? Oh, my ! — oh, my ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Whate'er thy paunch may crave for, this thou'lt buy. 

FOOL. 

What ! — house and lands, for which I ever sighed ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Ask what thou wilt, and naught shall be denied. 

FOOL. 

Castle, wood, lake, and meadow — 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Shall be sold thee; 
Soon, as the Manor's lord, will all behold thee 

FOOL. 

This very eve will I commence my rule. 

{Exit. 

MEPHISTOPHELES, (solus.) 

Ha, ha ! who now shall say the fool's a fool ! 



SCENE V. 
Dark gallery. — Faust. — Mephistopheles. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Why lead'st thou me to these dark vaults of night ? 

Hast thou not sport enough within, 
In yon proud halls, all thronged by maidens bright, 

Which yield so vast a field for mirthful sin ? 



58 



FAUST. 



FAUST. 

No more of this ! right well I know, 

Such scenes palled on thee long, long years ago ; 

And now this strange alacrity 

Is but put forward as a plea 

Why thou would'st not hold speech with me. 

Hear me, and aid ! for aid I truly need : 

The Chancellor and the Marshal bid me speed. 

The Emperor sulks ; nought can to joy restore him 

'Till Paris and fair Helen stand before him — 

Most beauteous woman, and most perfect man : 

Come, we must raise them both, if raise we can ! — 

Now shew thy skill ! I may not break my word. 

MEPKISTOPHELES. 

To give it lightly thus was most absurd. 

FAUST. 

Hast, fellow, such short-sighted views ?— 
Knew'st not to what our arts must lead us ? 
We have enriched, and must amuse. 
And so, good fiend, the devil speed us ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Think'st thou 'tis done as soon as said? 
No idle tricks will serve us here ; 

Such task as this might cost thy head — 
Far — far is Helen's sphere. 
Say then, good friend, wouldst thou roam thither ? 
Think'st thou because the paper-sprites appear 
When we do call, that we can force her hither ? 
With wishy-washy witches, spectral sprites, 
Dun dwarfs, and such-like gear, I soon could serve 
But demon damsels — Lucifer, preserve me ! — 
W T ill scarcely pass for Beauty's fairest lights. 



FAUST. 



59 



FAUST. 

Ha ! — the eternal strain ! Well, chant — chant on ! 
Renew thy old attempts at " Obscuration :" 
Father of endless doubt and vast negation. 
Some new reward thou crave'st, whate'er be done. — ■ 
A few short words will do the work, I know, 
And ere we turn about they stand before us. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

These heathens have their hell below, 
With their concerns we never bore us. 
Yet means there are ! 

FAUST. 

And what ? — speak — no delay ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Such tales of night I would not bring to day. 

{After a pause.) 

In boundless space, where Place nor Time intrude, 
Lurk goddesses enthroned on Solitude ; 
Scarce may I name them — none their forms have viewed. 
These are the Mothers ! 

faust, (startled.) 

Mothers ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Tremblest thou ? 

FAUST. 

Mothers ? — most strange !— Speak — whence, and where, 
and how ? 



60 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Most strange, in truth ! Dark goddesses unknown 
To mortals, whose existence we scarce own. 
From their abode thou sink'st perchance in space, 
Where naught but one dark void thine arms embrace ! 

FAUST. 

Tell me the road ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

No road ! — To darkness vast, 
To space that ne'er has been, ne'er will be past, 
To the Immeasurable ne'er attained, 
To realms that man nor spirit e'er have gained. 
Wilt thou attempt it in thy daring mood ? — 
Wilt thou, by vasty voids environed roam, 
Wilt dare to seek eternal Chaos' Home, 
One space — one wild — one boundless Solitude ? 

FAUST. 

Such jests as these thou well might'st spare me ; 

Dost think with bootless words to scare me, 

Like to thy friendly witches' incantation?* 

Dost think that Void to me seems strange ? 

Chaos and Void / see where'er I range — 

Void — mystic friend — and vain is all Creation ! — 

Have I not learnt, not taught, " the Void" for years; 

Have men for aught that is not empty ears ? 

And have I not myself, in angry mood, 

Sought out, with endless care, some solitude ? 

I closed with thee, from sore ennui s distress, 

Preferring even hell to " nothingness.'"' 

* The magic " one-times-one" of the witch, introduced in the 1st part 
cf Faust, is here alluded to. 



FAUST. 



61 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

And hadst thou cross'd the vast and azure ocean, 

And gazed upon its boundless tide, 

Still wouldst thou mark, in ceaseless soft commotion, 

Young wavelet chasing wavelet past thee glide. 

Still wouldst thou somewhat see : on blue seas lying 

Dolphins with sunset's rays in beauty vying, 

White clouds, and moon, and stars, still coursing o'er thee. 

Nought strays in space, around, behind, before thee ; 

Darkness herself may not be viewed, 

And scarce existing even is solitude. 

FAUST. 

Thou art a perfect Mystagogue — 
But I no Neophyte. Thou witty rogue ! — 
Strange tale ! Thou sendest me to empty space, 
There to increase my art, and power, and grace ; 
Make'st me, like some poor cat, (as oft we see,) 
Scratch out the chesnuts from the coals, for thee. 
Well, well — so be it ! me thou canst not blind, 
In this thy nothing, all I trust to find. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Ha ! — e'er thou leavest me, be 't for good or evil, 
This I must say : — thou know'st — thou knoufst the devil. 
Here, take this key ! 

FAUST. 

This little pigmy thing 1 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Take it, and prize it I ■ Firmly to it cling ! 

FAUST. 

It grows within my grasp ! it lightens, flames ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

See'st thou what honour Nature's pass-key claims ? 



62 



FAUST. 



This key thy constant guide, thou'lt need no others ; 
Follow its course — ; twill lead thee to the mothers. 

faust. ( sh u dde r i ng.) 
The mothers ! — strange, and dark, and mystic goal ! 
What word is this that racks my inmost soul ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Art thou " confined/" that this new word so harms thee, 
That that thou ne'er hast heard, when heard, alarms thee? 
Naught should confound thy soul, nor charm, nor spell : 

Is not thy present life a miracle 0 

FAUST. 

I am no inmate of an ice-bound sphere. 

'Tis mortal man's prerogative to fear : 

Whether on earth he craw], through heaven he range, 

He feels the monstrous, and he dreads the strange ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Sink, then !- — or mount ! Here each is each alike ;. 
Pass from the bounds of being ! seek to roam 
In wild imagination's vasty home, 
Where on Time's dial past and future strike ! 
The viewless hosts of chaos wander there : 
Grasp firm the key, and hold it fixed in air. 

faust. {inspired.) 
Behold ! in inspiration's sun I bask ; 
Wild force the key bestows : hence ! to my task ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

A glowing tripod, throned on night and sleep, 
Will meet thine eyes within the deepest deep. 
By its pale rays the mothers thou shalt ^ee : 
Some sit, some stand, and move in mystery, 
Existence laws — creation, transformation. 
Eternal recognition, vast negation — 



FAUST. 



63 



Dark shadows, viewless forms, around them fly : 
They see not thee — but ie embryos" they descry. 
Then steel thy heart, for danger dread is near, 
Approach the tripod of the mystic sphere, 
And press against it this, thy key ! 

FAUST, 

{Makes a firm and decided movement with the key^ as if 
touching some unseen object.) 

mephistopheles, (regarding him.) 

'Tis well ! 

It follows thee, it knows the mystic spell ; 
With thee the tripod mounts, a captive ta'en, 
And e'er thou dream's t it, thou art here again. 
And hast thou once secured that tripod bright. 
Then shalt thou summon spirits from the night- 
Immortal forms — the first such task to dare : 
The goal is won — and thou art glory's heir ! 
Before thine eyes the incense from the shrine 
Shall change to forms of beauty, shapes divine ! 

FAUST. 

And now ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Strive frame to sink to viewless night I 
Stamping — descend, and mount again to light ! 

faust, (stamps and sinks.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

That key, mayhap, may cause him lasting pain ; 
I wonder if he will return again. 



64 



FAUST. 



SCENE VI. 

(Splendidly illuminated chambers in the Imperial Palace. 
Emperor, Princes, and Courtiers, moving up and down 
the hall, which they throng confusedly.) 

chamberlain, (to Mephistopheles.) 

That spectral scene you promised — was 't pretence ? 
His Majesty's impatient; come — commence ! 

MASTER OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

Even now he asked the cause of this delay — 
Confess thy folly, or his will obey ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

That will to gratify, my comrade, even now 
Left me, and labours all alone ; — 
By patient toil he strives (and well knows how) 
To please the lord, of Europe's noblest throne. 
He who would seek the fairest and the best. 
Needs magic art to aid him in his quest. 

MASTER OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

What art ye use is all the same to me, 
The Emperor demands the play to see. 

blondine, (approaching Mephistopheles.) 
One word, sir ! — lo, a face right fair you mark ; 
But, ah ! in summer fades my beauty's spark : 
Then brownish reddish spots in hundreds sprout, 
Which lie my brow, my chin, my cheeks about. 
Some means to aid me ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

What ! so fair a maid 
Spotted like panthers in an eastern glade ? 
Take frog-slime, toad-tongues, well compressed together, 
Distil them in most bright moon-shining weather, 



FAUST. 



Apply the mixture in thy room alone — 

When spring appears the spots shall all be flown. 

BRUNETTE. 

Crowds press around you, hosts on hosts advancing — 
Give me some counsel ! — this frost-bitten foot 
Stays me from walking — nay, prevents my dancing — 
If you don't strive to aid me, you're a brute ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Permit a salutation from my foot ! 

BRUNETTE. 

That's but a form of greeting used by lovers ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Mine more magnetic power than theirs discovers. 
Come — like on like can secret aid bestow, 
Thus foot aids foot; this maxim, none should spurn it 
Approach ! my greeting feel — you wont return it. 

BRUNETTE 

Ah ! what a hoof ! how heavy ! woe — oh, woe ! 
It burns ! — it burns ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

But it has cured thee. — Go ! 
Dance now again without or term or measure, 
And use thy feet as best shall suit thy pleasure ! 

lady, {approaching.) 
Let me draw nigh ! oh, fearful is my anguish ! 
I burn, and then I sigh — I rage, then languish. 
Till yesterday he swore but mine to be — 
Now he seeks her, and .turns his back on me ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

A piteous case indeed, yet list me well : 
Take thou this coal ; approach him cautiously, 



FAUST. 



And with it mark his back, his cloak, his shoulder ; 
Soon shalt thou view the influence of the spell. 
Then, through this first attempt, grown bolder, 
Swallow the coal — than ice or snow 'tis colder ; — 
But drink nor wine, nor water, all the night — 
Before thy door he sighs at morning bright. 

LADY. 

No fear of poison ? 

MEPH1STOPHELES. 

Such base thoughts don't mention ! 
Far might you roam, a coal like this to get ; — 
From an auto-da-fe it comes that smoulders yet, 
But which we once were wont to poke with more attention. 

PAGE. 

I am in love, but deemed too young for pity. 

mephistopheles, (aside.) 
I know not how to answer each fool's ditty. 

(Aloud.) 

Seek not with all too youthful maids to mate thee ; 
More ancient damsels will appreciate thee. 

(Others approach on all sides.) 

What ! — more ! still more ! vain age, and silly youth ! 
And must I take recourse at last to truth ? 
Resource most wretched ! worse than folly's lore ! — 
Oh, Mothers, Mothers ! send me Faust once more ! 

(Gazing around.) 

The lamps burn sadly in the lofty hall — 
Lo ! to the door press lords and ladies all : 
In order due the vast and motley throng 
Paces the distant galleries along. 
Behold ! to one vast chamber now they pass, 
The knightly hall can scarce contain the mass. 



FAUST. 



67 



Its spacious walls old tapestry conceals, 
Each torch hacked armour, banners torn, reveals. 
Sure there we need no magic incantation— 
For Ghosts will come without an invitation ! 



SCENE VII. 

AND LAST. 

(Hall of the Knights. — Partial Illumination. — Emperor 
and the entire Court assembled.) 

HERALD. 

My ancient office, to announce the play, 
Dark sprites allow me not to fill in quiet; — 
Reason can ne'er explain such mystic riot, 
This gloomy night may ne'er be pierced by day. 
Seats I behold, and chairs on every side, 
Few inches from the wall our lord divide ; 
There on the tapestry, the combats dire 
Of by-gone days he safely may admire. 
Around him, in a circle vast, behold ! 
The courtiers sit and stand ; — lo ! warriors bold, 
And lovely maids have each the others greeted, 
And, side by side, to the hall's end, are seated. 
And thus, as all are placed in order here, 
We are prepared, the spirits may appear! 

[ Trumpets. 

ASTROLOGER. 

No longer now to hold ye in suspense, 

Our Lord the Emperor nods. Drama, commence !■— 

Ope walls ! Behold ! behold ! here magic aids, 

The painted tapestry in darkness fades ; 

The wall divides 'mid wonder's busy hum. 



68 



FAUST. 



And, lo! a theatre before ye lies, 

Light beams upon it cast from magic skies, 

And I ascend the high Proscenium. 

\ 

mephistopheles, (popping his head out of the 
prompter's box.) 

Here in my task I trust to please each soul — 
Whispered suggestions are the devil's role. 

(To the Astrologer.) 

Thou know'st the time to which the stars do turn, 
And wilt my whispers sans mistake discern. 

ASTROLOGER. 

Through wondrous art behold a temple rise ! 
Its massive structure haught invades the skies. 
Like Atlas, who the heavens of azure bore, 
A row of pillars stands the pile before ; 
They can support a rocky pile like this, 
Two such could bear a monstrous edifice. 

ARCHITECT. 

Is this antique? In truth I can't admire it; 

Heavy and awkward style ! who could desire it ? 

Dub ye the rough as noble, huge as great, 

E'en as ye will ; not thus would / create. 

Thin, graceful, boundless spires to me be given — 

They lead the wondering soul from earth to heaven. 

ASTROLOGER. 

Receive with due devotion starlit hours ; 
Reason be bound by magic's wondrous powers ; 
And free as air let boundless fancy stray, 
Like zephyrs that on azure ocean play. 
With eyes behold what most ye long to see, 
Impossible it is, and thence must be ! 

(Faust ascends at the other extremity of the Proscenium*) 



FAUST. 



69 



ASTROLOGER. 

In priestly garments, garlands round his brow, 
His work the sage completes before ye now. 
A tripod mounts with him from vaults below, 
Lo! fragrant incense from its shrine shall flow. 
Now he prepares the mighty work to bless, 
Henceforth undoubted is his task's success. 

faust, (solemnly.) 

In your great name, ye Mothers, ye whose throne 
Rests on the boundless ; ye who reign alone, 
And yet conjoined with many. Round ye, weave 
The lifeless shades of life, to joy and grieve. 
All that hath once existence known on earth, 
Strives there to issue to a second birth. 
And ye, Almighty powers, their fates decide ! 
Some do ye cast again to life's fresh tide, 
To-day and night revolving: other forms 
The sage magician summons in fierce storms ; 
To mortals then his wondrous prize he shews, 
And fills with awe kind friends and direst foes. 

ASTROLOGER. 

Behold ! a glowing key salutes the shrine; 

Forthwith a stream of incense, rare, divine. 

Bursts from the tripod, and like some white cloud 

The stage conceals in one elastic shroud. 

But, lo ! a stranger miracle than this ! 

The wandering vapours murmur strains of bliss, 

Voluptuous strains, that softly upwards soar, 

And music breathes around, behind, before. 

The pillars and the altar gently ring — 

By Heaven ! the very temple seems to sing ! — 

The clouds dissolve; from forth the misty sphere, 

Behold a fair and noble youth appear ! 

My task is o'er, I need not speak — for, oh ! 

The beauteous Paris who could fail to know ? 

G 



70 



FAUST. 



LADY. 

Ah ! what a perfect form, in youth's sweet prime ! 

SECOND LADY. 

Like to the blushing peach in summer time ! 

THIRD LADY. 

What finely drawn — what sweetly budding lips! 

FOURTH LADY. 

Bright roses whence the bee his honey sips ! 

FIFTH LADY. 

Beauteous he is — but not too elegant, 

SIXTH LADY. 

In truth, his motions grace and softness want. 

KNIGHT. 

The shepherd-boy I see before me here ; 
Naught of the graceful prince or courtly peer. 

ANOTHER KNIGHT. 

Half naked thus, the fellow's handsome, — true ! 
But arm him — and then mark him ! — prithee do ! 

LADY. 

Behold ! he seats him, gently all reclining. 

KNIGHT. 

Beside him, there to rest, perchance you re pining. 

ANOTHER LADY. 

Now, o'er his head his arm he lightly leans. 

CHAMBERLAIN. 

" Quelle insolence !" I know not what he. 'Means ! 



FAUST, 



71 



LADY. 

Yon gentlemen, some fault must always find. 

CHAMBERLAIN. 

Loll in the Emperor's presence, thus reclined ! 

LADY. 

He only acts! — He thinks himself alone. 

CHAMBERLAIN. 

Even plays should courteous be so near the throne. 

LADY. 

La! sleep enshrouds him in her visions sweet. 

CHAMBERLAIN. 

* Good heavens! — he snores. Well, now the thing's 
complete. 

young lady, (enchanted.) 

What fairy odour joins the incense now ? 
My inmost heart it joys — I know not how. 

elder lady. 

A zephyr, as from some sweet rose, in truth ! 
J.t comes from him ! 

eldest lady. 

It is the flower of youth, 
Which as ambrosia sleeps within the boy, 
And spreads around him love, and hope, and joy. 

(helen advances.) 

mephistopheles. 

And this is she ! — My peace she ne'er will steal ; 
I own her pretty — more I cannot feel. 



72 



FAUST. 



ASTROLOGER. 

What should I now discourse? — how should I speak? 
To paint these charms all language proves too weak. 
The beauteous comes ! in endless light it beams; 
Beauty, that haunts the youthful poet's dreams, — 
Beauty, whose aspect all beholders gladdens, — 
Beauty, whose blest possession more than maddens. 

FAUST. 

Have I still eyes ? — Hath not wild beauty's stream 

My reason in its wondrous flood benighted ? 

From dangers past enchantments present beam. 

How vain was all in which I once delighted ! 

What is this earth, since I the ideal gained ? 

Perfect perfection, loveliness unstained ! 

The breath which aye my being hath maintained, 

Let it depart, if I desert thee ever ! — 

The beauteous shape which once my soul enchanted, 

The mirror's form that memory haunted,* 

Could scarce thy charms to mock endeavour ! — 

The force, the power which aye this soul attained, 

The adoration all unfeigned, 

I give thee all — love, passion, being, madness ! 

mephistopheles, (from the prompter's box.) 

Stick to your part i' the name of sober sadness ! 

ELDER LADY. 

Tall and well formed — but then her head's too smalh 

YOUNGER LADY. 

Look at her foot ! — a round and clumsy ball ! 

* Alluding to the mirror in which Faust beheld a beauteous form 
the witch's hut, his visit to which is described in the 1st Part. 



FAUST, 



DIPLOMATIST. 

Princesses like this fair I oft have seen, 

She seems from head to toe of beauty Queen. 

COURTIER. 

Softly towards the shepherd see her steal ! 

LADY. 

His perfect charms all her defects reveal I 

POET. 

He seems illumined by her beauty rare. 

LADY. 

Endymion and his Luna, I declare. 

POET. 

*Tis so ! The goddess gently seems to sink, 
O'er him she bends as if his breath to drink ! — 
A kiss ! — To pay it, earth were all too poor. 

DUENNA. 

What ! before all the people? — well, I'm sure ! 

FAUST. 

Dread favour to the boy ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Peace ! — peace, I say ! 
Can you not let the spectre take its way ? 

COURTIER. 

She darts afar, light-footed ; he awakes. 

LADY. 

I'll wager she looks back ! — Ha, ha ! who takes 

COURTIER. 

He stares ! and thinks he sees a miracle. 



74 



FAUST. 



LADY. 

What she both sees and wants she knows right well. 

COURTIER. 

How gracefully she now returns again ! 

LADY. 

Yes, yes ! I see, she'll teach him love's sweet lore ; 
Most men at first to learn from us are fain ; 
He'll think that none was taught like him before. 

KNIGHT. 

Confess her worth ! how bright ! how all divine ! 

LADY. 

These bold advances are not over fine. 

PAGE. 

Oh, lucky boy ! would that thy place were mine ! 

COURTIER. 

In such a net who'd not be caught most gladly ? 

LADY. 

The jewels' setting wears in truth but badly ; 
Through many an owner's hand it now hath past. 

ANOTHER LADY. 

From ten years old ! 'Twill wear to naught at last. 

KNIGHT. 

Each mortal man the most he can, obtains ; 
I should be quite content with these remains. 

LEARNED PROFESSOR. 

I see her clearly, yet, to tell the truth, 
I still must doubt if she be she in sooth. 



FAUST. 



75 



The present often may deceive our eyes, 

The past's long chronicles far more I prize. 

Here, then, I read that all Troy's greybeards thought her 

Worthy to be of Venus' self the daughter ; 

This rule apply a tailor might, or tinker, 

I am not young, and yet most beauteous think her. 

ASTROLOGER. 

No longer boy — a bold heroic youth — ■ 
He grasps her — feebly now she strives, good sooth, 
To quit his arms : he strains her to his breast — 
He bears her hence! — 

faust, {to Paris.) 
Pause, wretch ! Fool all too blest ! 
Thou dare'st ! shall this be borne ? I tell thee — cease ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Hast thou not pulled these puppets? Peace! oh, peace ! 

ASTROLOGER. 

One word alone ! — We beg your fair construction ; 
Our Magic Play is called — Helen's Abduction. 

faust. 

Abduction ? Fool ! have I no voice, no power ? 

Do I not bear this key within my grasp ? 

It led me on, where waves, wastes, whirlwinds cower, 

Through solitudes, firm earth again to clasp ! 

Here do I take my stand ! in realms of Being, 

Here wars my soul with spirits, laws decreeing, 

At once the Ideal and the Real foreseeing. 

Far as she was, she now is near, most near ! 

I'll save her — mine she shall be, even here. 

On ! on ! — Ye Mothers ! — Mothers, grant my prayer! 

He who hath found, to claim her, well may dare. 

astrologer. 
Faust, Faust ! what dost thou ? lo ! despite all fears. 
He grasps her. Ha ! the form to fade appears ! 



76 



FAUST. 



Towards the youth he turns the golden key — 

It touches ! — Woe ! all's lost ! — Woe ! woe to thee ! 

(Fearful explosion. — Faust lies on earth. — The shadows 
vanish in vapours.) 

mephistophei.es. [taking faust on his shoulders.) 

Well — there's the end ! Each dolt must find his level ; 
To deal with Fools, I see, may harm the Devil. 

Da rk n ess — Tu m ult. Cu rta i n falls. 



END OF THE FIRST ACT. 



ACT THE SECOND. 



€in ©(antral SHalpurgfe Ktgftt 



CHARACTERS INTRODUCED, 

FAUST. 

MEPHISTOrHELES. 

FAMULUS. 

BACCALAUREUS. 

WAGNER. 

HOMUNCULUS. 



Clascal 

ERICTHO, (A FURY.) 

GRIFFINS. 

ARIMASPIANS. 

SPHINXES. 

SIRENS. 

NYMPHS. 

CFIRON. 

KANTO. 

SEISMOS. 

ANTS. 

PIGMIES. 

DACTYLES. 

CRANES OF IBYCUS. 

LAMIAS. 

EMPUSA. 



OREAS. 

ANAXAGORAS, 

THALES. 

DRY AS. 

PHORCYADES. 

NEREIDS. 

TRITONS. 

NEREUS. 

PROTEUS. 

TEL CHINES OF RHODES. 

PYSYLLI AND MARSL 

DORIDES. 

GALATEA. 

SAILOR BOYS, 

PENEIOS. 



Note. — The Classical Walpurgis Night introduced 
in this act, forms a " pendant" to the famous Romantic 
Walpurgis Night, (described in the First Part of Faust,) 
on which the Devil and all his train of wizards and 
witches held high festival on the summit of the Hartz 

o 

Mountain. 



i3 



ACT THE SECOND. 



3TJk ©laggical aaalpurgte $li$)U 



SCENE I. 

Lofty, but narrow and vaulted Gothic chamber, formerly 
inhabited by Faust ; it is still unchanged. 

MEPHISTOPHELES, 

(stepping from behind a curtain. As he raises it and looks 
bach, Faust is seen lying upon a quaint and old-fashioned 
couch.) 

There lie, unhappy one ! enchained 
By bonds of love, most hard to sever, 

The mortal Helen's charms have gained 
Shall wake to reason late or never. 

(Looking round him.) 

Lo ! if I gaze above, below, 
All seems unchanged, the same as years ago ; 
The coloured panes of glass have darker grown, 
The spiders' webs have waxed in breadth, I own ; 
The paper's yellow, and the ink is dry; 
But all things stand as then they stood ; 
Here lies the pen with which in reckless mood 
Faust to the Devil sold his soul's eternity. 
h 2 



80 



FAUST. 



Here in the quill a drop of gore 

Which I coaxed from him, still I see remains: 

An antiquarian naught would count as pains 

To gain so rare a treasure for his store. 

There, too, the furry dressing-gown I mark, 

Disguised by which, in days no more, 

I preached strange wisdom to the youthful spark, 

Who since, no doubt, hath practised all my lore.* 

'Tis strange ! I feel an odd desire, 

Thou covering old and rough, again 

To deck me in professor's learn'd attire, 

And seem as wise as they, and eke as vain. 

These learned men still dream they all must know, 

The Devil saw his folly long ago. 

(Z/e shakes the dressing-gown of fur, which he has taken 
down from its peg. Grasshoppers, crickets, beetles, 
and fleas, fly out of it, 

CHORUS OF INSECTS. 

Oh, welcome, right welcome, 

Old comrade art thou ! 

We buzz, and we hover, 

And press round thee now. 

But singly, in silence, 

Thou plantedst our train ; 

Lo ! thousands come thronging to 

Meet thee again. 

The rogue 'neath the bosom 

Will hide if he may ; 

From the folds of the mantle 

We soon spring to day. 

* Mephistopheles here alludes to the Student whom he received (in 
the First Part) in the character of Faust, and whom he taught to despise 
law, medicine, and theology, and to live only by humbugging mankind. 



FAUST. 



81 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

What glad surprise excites this new creation ! 
Sow, and in time thou'lt reap a generation. 
Once more the ancient robe I now must shake, 
All sleeping loiterers from their rest to wake. 
Up — up, around — in every hole and cranny 
Haste to conceal ye loves so blithe and cannie. 
There, where those rotten boxes stand, 
Here, in this mouldering parchment — hide ! 
In yon old glasses, vessels, pfakdg , abide, i Jhl£> 
And claim yon eyeless skulls as cricket-land. 
'Mid things so old, so worn, so vain, so rusty, 
Cares, crickets, and caprices must be. 

(Slips on the fur gown.) 

Come, come, old friend ! once more my shoulders hide : 
Once more I'll act the " Savant" in his pride; 
But wherefore thus, with my own praise regale me? 
Where are the people, who as such should hail me? 

(He pulls the hell, which rings with a loud and piercing 
summons, that makes the halls tremble, and the 
doors spring open.) 

FAMULUS,* 

(icho comes half reeling from fear along the dark passage.) 

What a fearful blast is ringing ! 

Walls are trembling, stones are springing— 

Earthquake shakes the building's basement, 

Lightning glares through yon dark casement ; 

Fragments sever from the ceiling, 

The vast hall is round me reeling ; 

* And the doors, all barred and bolted, 
Burst asunder fiercely jolted. 

* Familiar. Thus was termed the attendant, or servitor, at the an' 
cient German universities. 



82 FAUST. 

Ha ! what monster, dark and gory, 
Stands in Faustus' garb before me! 
Could I hide me, lowly kneeling, 
From his eyes my form concealing ? 
Shall I stand or shall I fly ? 
Ne'er was mortal cowed as I ! 

mephistopheles, (nodding.) 
Come nearer, friend ! — Your name is Nicodemus. 

FAMULUS. 

Most honoured sir, 'tis so indeed ! — " Oremus."* 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

No more ! fear nought !— 

FAMULUS. 

You know me? What an honour! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. . „ 
Slili 

Science you long have conned, and yet you con her, 
The learned dame ! — A student with grey hairs, 
Still know you none but studious learning's cares. 
The oldest still must learn — and at the best, 
Each man his house of cards may build — his nest 
In which he lays his fancy's eggs to rest : 
But none or house or nest can finish! — There's 
Your sage Magister — he's a learned wight, 
As all men know — the Doctor Wagner hight, 
On earth's vast round the most abstruse Professor ! 
Round him all throng, the greater and the lesser ; 
All who would learn how this from this must flow, 
Life's " Alpha" and " Omega" burn to know. 
He on the professorial chair doth shine ; 
As Peter guards the key divine, 



* We pray. The form of words by which humble petitions in Latin 
were commenced. It here signifies as much as — " Mercy !" 



FAUST. 



83 



He holds the key that leads to learning's treasures, 
And each man's share for each he duly measures. 
Sure ne'er was name like Wagner's glorious, 
O'er all his foes he shines victorious, 
His students' cheers are quite uproarious, 
Even Faustus' fame his fame doth far exceed ! 

FAMULUS. 

Oh, honoured sir! you err — you do indeed ! 
Forgive me for this contradiction ; 
Really your praises need one slight restriction ; 
His mind is ever ruled by modesty ; 
The strange and sudden disappearance 
Of that great man he cannot comprehend ; 
To all his tenets he maintains adherence, 
And prays that Heaven in bounteous charity, 
Back to his pupils Faustus yet may send, 
The lord of science. Still without one change, 
Even as he left it, does this room remain. 
Scarce have I ventured o'er yon vaults to range, 
And this long walled up threshhold to attain. — 
And sure some strange and magic spell 
Is working now of Heaven or Hell : 
Your entrance seems a miracle ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Where now may Doctor Wagner be ? 
Lead me to him, or him to me ! 

FAMULUS. 

Oh ! his commands are strict — most strict, 
All men's approach they interdict. 
For months he now has worked alone, 
To make some wondrous prize his own. 
He, of all " Savants" the most neat, 
Is now a collier quite complete. 



84 



FAUST. 



His face as black as any nigger, 
His eyes all red from fire's fierce vigour ; 
'Mid smoke enough to choke a smoker, 
No comrades, save his tongs and poker, 
Thus does he fret, and fume, and work, 
As hot and angry as a Turk. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Think you to me he entrance will deny ? 
I am the man to aid him ! — Go and try. 

[Exit the Famulus. Mephistopheles seats 
himself with much gravity. 

Behold ! scarce have I ta'en my ancient place, 

Ere an old guest approaches — but no more 

The modest, simple wight I knew of yore — 

He's now grown bold enough a thousand fiends to face. 

baccalaureus {rushing along the passage.) 

Gate and doors I find them ope ! 
So there may be cause to hope 
That no longer, like the dead, 
Here the living hides his head ; 
Life and gladness ne'er enjoying, 
Moping, pining, self-destroying. 

But behold ! the tottering walls 
Scarcely prop these ancient halls ; 
If I long should linger here, 
Falling stones would form my bier. 
Though right few than I am bolder, 
I'll my way no further shoulder. 



But what is'l I now behold? 
Was't not here, in years long told, 



FAUST. 



That, impelled by modest shame, 
As a youthful Fox* I came ? 
Heard the professorial bother, 
And believed their silly pother. 

From their dusty books so wise 

They retailed most foolish lies ; 

All they knew they taught to me, 

Knowing that too false to be. 

Ha ! — behind, where shades are flitting, 

One e'en now alone is sitting ! 

Strange ! with wonder I behold 

Still the fur his form enfold, 

That old cloak which well I know ! 

Thus I left him years ago. 

Then he seemed a wondrous fellow, 

Then his looks my tongue could fetter ; 

I was green, but now Fm mellow, 

He shall learn to know me better. 

Old Gentleman, if Lethe's muddy waves 
Have not entirely sapped your time-worn bra 
Behold in me your pupil once again, 
Who academic rods now laughing braves. 
You seem just what you seemed of yore, 
But I, sir, am the same no more. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I am right glad my bell has called you hither- 
Even then I deemed not lightly of your powers 
The caterpillar, dark as leaves that wither. 
Becomes the butterfly in summer hours. 

* The new comers at German universities are called "Foxes." 



86 



FAUST. 



In bright long locks, and collar clean and white, 

You then appeared to take delight. 

A pigtail I believe you never wore ? — 
The Brutus-cut now seems to please you more. 
You look right firm, and bold, and tall, 
Yet have a care — Pride goes before a fall. 

BACCALAUREUS. 

Old Gentleman ! The old and well-known spot, 

Where we once met, this is; but oh ! remember 

That times are changed since then, though you are not 

And chant not April's lays to wise September ! 

The booby youth you well might fool ; 

But now I go no more to school, 

And what was easy then, now may not be. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The master tells the scholar truth — and he 
Derides his teacher's wise sagacity, 
And calls truth libels. When in after years, 
Viewed by experience, truth as truth appears, 
He swears his brain alone perceived the rule, 
And loudly cries — u My master was a fool V 

BACCALAUREUS. 

A rogue mayhap ! For say, what master ever 
Would truth, and naught but truth, to teach endeavour 
Each hides, or more or less, as best he finds, 
And suits his lectures to his hearers' minds. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

There is a time for learning, as we know ; 

You seem prepared to teach. Your knowledge shew 

No doubt in some few years of strife 

You've gained the vast experience of a life. 



FAUST. 



87 



BACCALAUREUS. 

Experience ? Humbug ! dust and vapour ! 
To the soul's sun a rushlight taper. 
Confess ! all knowledge men have made their own 
Might just as well remain unknown. 

mephistopheles (after a pause.) 

I've thought so long I — I was a fool — 
I see myself an ass — a senseless tool. 

BACCALAUREUS. 

How wisely said ! My pleasure's quite intense ; 
The first old man I've found with sparks of sense ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I sought in vain for hidden golden treasure. 
And nought but dark and gloomy coals I found. 

BACCALAUREUS. 

Confess! Your time-worn pate, (you'll give me pleasure,) 
Is not, than yon cracked skulls, one whit more sound ? 

mephistopheles (pleasantly.) 
Good friend, you're somewhat rude ! Now, prithee, why ? 

BACCALAUREUS. 

He who in German 's civil can but lie. 

MEPHISTOPHELES, 

(who has wheeled his rolling arm chair nearer and nearer 
to the front of the stage, says to the audience in the 
pit) 

I scarce can breathe, this knave disgusts me so : 
Will you afford me refuge there below ? 



88 



FAUST. 



BACCALAUREUS. 

Presumptuous it appears, and quite a bore, 

That men would somewhat be, when men no more. 

The life of mortals flows from blood, and where 

Is blood, save in wild youth, fresh, void of care ? 

There flows the living blood in youthful force 

That life from life produces in its course. 

There all things move, hope, fear, and hate, and love, 

The feeble falls, the mighty soars above. 

Whilst we have conquered half the world with power, 

What have ye done ? Dreamed, nodded, slept an hour, 

Doubted, debated thus or thus to move. 

Tis true ! Age is an ague fever, 

A shivering fool that seeks his bed ; 

At thirty, men from life must sever, 

Thenceforth they're all as good as dead ! 

It would be best to kill ye off by times. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The Devil might reward, though, such slight crimes. 

BACCALAUREUS. 

No Devil shall exist if I say nay. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The Devil soon your bill will make you pay. 

BACCALAUREUS. 

This is most noble Youth's sublime vocation ! 
There was no world before I willed creation ; 
I led the sun from out the azure sea ; 
The moon began her changing course with me ; 
Then went bright day rejoicing forth before me ; 
Blossoms this earth produced, because it bore me. 
At my command, in that first wondrous night, 
Burst into being stars and orbits bright. 



FAUST. 



89 



Who — who, save I, hath freed ye from the fetters 

Of mean Philistine* thoughts, and Fable's letters ? 

But I for ever free, my guide my soul, 

Follow my own most inmost light as goal, 

And wander in delight, where none shall find me, 

Eternal day before and night behind me. [Exit. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Original — farewell, in all thy glory ! — 
To know thyself thy soul would grieve ! 
Canst thou, O man, aught wise or mad believe, 
That others have not oft believed before thee ? 
Even this presumption is a thrice-told tale ; 
Perchance though it may lead to something yet, 
For though the mustf doth idly fume and fret, 
Wine to become, in time, it scarce can fail. 

(To the younger portion of the audience who do not 
applaud. 

Ye hear my words, and still are cold ! — 
Against my anger youth's your screening; 
Children, reflect : the Devil's old, — 
Old ye must get to catch his meaning ! 

* Philistine. The cant name given by German students to every- 
thing they consider old-fashioned and commonplace. 

| The juice of the grape, when first extracted from the fruit, in a 
state of fermentation, is called must, (" der most.") Mephistopheles 
says, that as this " must" becomes wine, so the wild folly of the student 
shall be matured, whether for good or for evil. 



90 



FAUST. 



SCENE II. 

Laboratorium, furnished according to the fashion of the 
middle ages. Heaps of awkward apparatuses, large 
and small, for fantastic purposes, lie about in all 
directions. 

wagner (who stands at the fire -hearth.) 

The bell resounds, its summons loud 

Through halls and walls distinctly pealing ; 

The hour is come ! doubt's mystic shroud 

No more shall fall, " the end" concealing. 

Behold ! the gloomy vapours fly, 

And in the inmost phial beaming 

A fiery gem is brightly gleaming, 

Of carbuncle or ruby dye. 

Through gloomy darkness see it lighten ! 

White rays that snowdrops' hues would heighten. — 

Were it but mine, all cares were o'er 

Ah Heaven ! — what's rattling at the door ? 

mephistopheles (entering.) 
All hail ! My presence need not frighten. 

wagner (anxiously.) 
All hail ! at this momentous hour. 

{In a low tone of voice.) 
But speak and breathe as softly as you've power ; 
Forthwith a wondrous work will be completed. 

mephistopheles (more softly.) 
What work ? 



FAUST. 



91 



wagner (also very softly.) 

A man's creation ! — Pray be seated. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Where have you hid the gentle Cupid ? 
Does Psyche lurk within yon chimney hole ? 

WAGNER. 

In truth your question does not seem so stupid, — - 

But, know ! we work entirely through the soul. 

Love, that bright flame which sprang in hearts to life, 

And mingling in delicious playful strife 

With the young flame from others' hearts, created 

Being and life, when love with love was mated, 

Hath lost its office and high dignity ; 

Brute beings' means of life this well may be : 

But man, with all his gifts, so ripe for bliss, 

Must have a nobler origin than this. 

( Turning to the hearth.) 

It lightens ! see ! — In truth we've cause to hope 
That, by commingling substances, our scope 
May yet be gained — for all depends on mixture ; 
Thus living mortals we compound, 
Melt and re-melt in one vast mound, 
Twisting the cauldron round and round, 
And so the moving mass becomes a fixture. 

(Turning again to the hearth.) 

The work proceeds ! The mass more clearly beams — 
A settled form to take the embryo seems ! 
Oft have men praised the powers of Nature, 
Those powers I now have dared to prove ; 
And thus we crystallize by Art the creature 
That aye till now was organized by Love. 



92 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

He who lives long sees much in course of time, 
And nothing new can meet his eyes ; 
I've seen, wandering o'er earth, from clime to clime, 
Mortals that Nature chose to crystallize.* 

WAGNER 

(who has continued to observe the phial attentively.) 

It mounts — it flames — it mocks the sun — 

Forthwith the wished-for goal is won ! 

Glorious designs like this at first seem vain ; 

But henceforth chance, mere chance, shall cease to be, 

And none but he who thinks, shall dare again 

To form a brain that thinks as well as he. 

(Regarding the phial in ecstasy.) 

The glass resounds with wondrous magic force, 

Now dark, now clear and bright ; lo ! solved 's the riddle ! 

A fair but pigmy being from its source 

Springs into life deep in the phial's middle. 

What more would we — would all the world, desire ? 

The secret now is brought to day ; 

Hearing alone the embryo will require, 

And speech and language follow as they may. 

homunculus (in the phial, to wagner.) 

Well, dear papa ! how now ? There's no mistake ! 

Embrace me — but don't let my vessel break ! 

Its glass is fragile, and I need protection ; 

For this is Nature's sure direction : — 

All natural things through boundless spheres would soar, 

The artificial must be bounded o'er. 

* That is — dull, lifeless, inanimate beings, such as all the Chinese, and 
too many Europeans. 



FAUST. 



93 



(To Mephistopheles.) 

But thou — friend rogue, and cousin — art thou here, 
Just in the nick of time — the dwarf to cheer ? 
I thank thee ! happy fortune led thee hither ; 
Not like bright flowers that only bloom to wither 
My hours shall pass. Now that I am, I'll act — 
And thou must aid me, cousin — that's a fact ! 

WAGNER. 

One word I pray ! Ashamed I oft have found me, 

When young and old with problems pressed around me. 

For instance — none could ever yet conceive 

How soul and body still together cleave, 

So firmly bound as if they ne'er would sever, 

Yet wrangling, fighting, quarrelling for ever. 

And then 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Stop, stop ! You'd better next inquire 
Why man and wife are aye like waves and fire ! 
Questions like these no being e'er could answer ; 
Do would this dwarf ; let him do all he can, sir ! 

HOMUNCULUS. 

What is to do ? 

mephistopheles (pointing to a side door.) 
There all thy powers employ ! 

wagner (still looking fixedly at the phial.) 
I'faith, thou art a most bewitching boy ! 

[The side door opens of itself; Faust is seen stretched 
upon the couch. 

i 



94 



FAUST. 



homunculus (astonished.) 

Most wondrous ! 

[The phial slips out of Wagner's hands, soars 
through the air above Faust, and illuminates 
him by its beams. 

Sight most lovely ! — Waters flowing 
Through darksome groves ; — bright maids their beauties 
baring, 

The ever fairest, like white lilies glowing, 
Peep through green waves. Lo ! one, their sports not 
sharing, 

Beams 'midst the train as Queen of Love and Beauty. 

Her foot she dips within the crystal river, 

And now the waves, as if in playful duty, 

Press round her form, like plumes on Cupid's quiver. 

But hark ! what sounds are these of wings fast moving, 

With splashing ripples, o'er the waters roving? 

The maidens fly in terror ; she alone, 

Their Queen, beholds as from a watery throne 

The princely swan towards her gently gliding, 

And near her beauteous form with pride abiding, 

Loving and tame. — New feelings now have birth. — 

But lo! a vapoury mist ascends, 

And, whilst o'er all the vale it round extends, 

Hides from my eyes the fairest scene of earth. 

MEPH ISTOPHELES. 

How much, good friend, thou hast to tell ! 
Small as thou art, thou'rt hugely whimsical. 
Why, / see nothing. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Thou — from the dark North, 
Whence nought but: elves and witches issue forth— 



FAUST. 



Grown old 'mid knightly strife and priestly rule- 
Must needs in such things be a fool ! 
In darkness thou'rt alone at home. 

{Looking round him.) 

Old brown grey stones — all wet and weary — 
Low-arched, veluted, damp, and dreary ! 
If this man wakes, what then shall be his lot ? 
Why, faith ! he dies upon the spot. 
Wood streams, and swans, and nymphs their arms th 
lave — 

Such was his strange prophetic dream ; 

How should he bear this hideous cave ? 

Even I 9 the aye content, here scarce can beam. — 

Away with him ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

But whither ? — That's the doubt 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Lead thou the warrior to the battle, 
Guide thou the maid to ball and rout, 
And each in new-worn life shall rattle. 
Even now, if memory serves me right, 
Is Classical Walpurgis Night, 
The element of yon poor lover — 
Take him to that — he must recover ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I never heard of such a thing ! 

HOMUNCULUS. 

How in thine ears should Fama's trumpet ring ? 
Romantic ghosts and sprites-— you know them all ; 
A real good ghost, sir, should be classical ! 

i 2 



96 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Say ! whither must we wend our toilsome flight ? 
Colleagues antique like these my soul affright ! 

HOMUNCULUS. 

North-western, Satan, lies thy space for play ; 
South-easterly we now must sail away. 
O'er the broad plain the clear Peneus flows, 
Bushes and trees surround bays calmly sleeping, 
The moon, her watch above the mountains keeping, 
On old and new Pharsalus glances throws. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Oh cease ! no more ! Oh, call not into life 
Bondage and Tyranny's eternal strife ! # 
How it ennuyes me ! When some goal they gain 
From the beginning they begin again ; 
No mortal sees — Asmodi mock their toil, 
For ever foiling schemes, and doomed to foil ! 
They fight, they cry, for freedom's rights or graves, 
And after all they're slaves that war with slaves. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Leave thou to men their still conflicting strife: 
Each must defend himself, the best he can, 
From boyhood upwards — thus he grows a man. 
The question's now to bring this man to life! 
Hast thou some means to aid — display their power; 
If not, the task be mine this very hour. 

* The mention made by Homunculus of Pharsalia, recalls to Mephis- 
topheles' mind the great battle which was there fought betwixt Caesar 
and Pompey, on which the liberty of the world depended. This remi- 
niscence induces him to burst Jorth in rhapsodical invectives against 
liberty, which he describes as a chimera, agreeably to his usual custom 
of decrying all that is noble, great, and glorious. 



FAUST. 



97 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

There's many a Brocken # game might give relief. 
But not to one by heathens wrought to grief — 
He can alone by heathens be restored ! 
I never liked these Greeks ! — Their ways afford 
A thousand mirthful sins, so blithe and merry ; 
Our sins with theirs compared seem gloomy — very. 
But let it be ! 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Thou'rt not so blunt and weak 
That when I of Thessalian witches speak, 
Thou shouldst not start in gamesome expectation. 

mephistopheles (grinning.) 
Thessalian witches? Humph ! I've wished right long 
To meet them. Hail my wishes' consummation ! 
Damsels right bony, I'll be sworn, and strong — 
Not, I suspect, the fairest in creation ! 
But to our voyage — visit — 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Reach thy cloak, 
And firmly round yon sleeper bind it ! 
This rag, that thick night dews shall soak 
Will bear ye two ; right firm ye'll find it. 
I soar above. 

wagner (anxiously.) 
And I ? 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Why you, good friend, 
Remain at home your weighty tasks to end. 
Open the parchments sered by rusty time, 
Collect the elements from every clime. 

* Brocken, the summit of the Hartz mountain, on which Satanic fes~ 
tivals are held. 



98 



FAUST. 



Bind them together with all fitting trouble ; 
Reflect with prudence " What"— and " How" — and 
« Why f 

Whilst / float o'er the world like some light bubble, 
Perchance you'll find the dot above the " I." 
Attained is then the goal divine ; 
Such a reward so long a search should find : 
Gold, honour, glory, life with health combined, 
W T isdom and virtue — all in all are thine. 
Farewell ! 

wagner {mournfully.) 

Farewell ! This parting works me pain — 
I fear I ne'er shall see thy form again. 

3IEPHISTOPHELES. 

Now to Peneios quick descend; 
Let not our cousin 1ow t be rated ! 

{Ad Spectator es.) 

In truth we almost all depend 
On creatures we ourselves created. 



SCENE III. 

CLASSICAL WALPURGIS NIGHT. 
Plains of Pharsalia. — Darkness. 
erictho. 

To the dark meeting of this night, as oft before, 
I wend my steps, Erictho, I the mournful one ; 
Not all so fearful as malignant bards have dared 
In calumny to paint me. — Ever in extremes 
Are they in blame or praise. Lo ! far away the vale 
Seems whitened o'er by tents, like snow-white waves at 
sea, 



FAUST. 



99 



The spectral vision of one care- and woeful night.* 
How oft 'twas thus reacted ! thus shall ever be 
Reacted in all ages. Each man seeks to thrust 
The other from the throne, and no man, who the prize 
Once holds, would aye resign it. Mortals, all unfit 
Their own fierce selves to rule, would yet most gladly 
reign 

O'er others' minds, and bend them sternly to their own. 
A mighty instance of such conflict here was seen : 
Here did vast power oppose itself to power more vast, 
Here was the garland flower-en wreathed of freedom torn, 
Here the stern laurel wound around the victor's brow. 
Pompey in dreams beheld his hopes of fame fulfilled, 
There to the waking Caesar thoughts of triumph came. 
Those powers shall meet in strife ! Who conquers all 
men know. 

Watch fires are beaming, blood-red flames burn luridly, 
Earth breathes of blood, and mists of gore arise ; 
Enticed by these strange gleams, from out the darksome 
night 

Assemble now Hellenic legions' wondrous train. 
Round all the fires, like spectres, glide or rest in peace 
The vast creation fabulous of days of eld. 
The moon, not full indeed, yet beaming gladsomely, 
Rises her gentle light o'er every height to pour : 
Behold ! the spectral tents all vanish, fires burn blue. 

But lo ! above me what unlooked for meteor now ? 
It lightens and illumines some corporeal ball. 
Ha ! life I scent. So would it boot me worse than ill, 
To meet aught living, which my presence ever harms ; 
That would but wrong my name, and make me cursed 
by man. 

It sinks already. I will shun it with all secrecy. 

[ Retiree. 

* That before the battle of Pharsalia. 



100 



FAUST. 



( The aerial voyagers are seen above ) 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Once more soar the vale around, 
O'er the fires so strangely glaring ; 
All the plain seems haunted ground, 
Spectral, hideous, fancy scaring. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

On the Bracken's heights so dreary, 
Where the North's wild legions roam, 
Scenes like this may fright and fear ye; 
Here, as there, I feel at home. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Look ! a woman's form is gliding, 
Long and spectral, there away. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Sure, through air she viewed us riding, 
And to meet us will not stay. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Let her fly ! Now gently take him, 
This, thy knight, from airship's helm ; 
Earth's embrace to life shall wake him, 
Life he seeks in fable's realm. 

faust [touching the ground.) 
Where is she ? 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Can't pretend to say ; 
She may perchance, though, come to day. 
Quickly now, ere the morning beams, 
Go thou around from fire to fire ; 
He who hath sought the Mothers' sphere of dreams, 
Can fear no shapes, however dire. 



FAUST. 



101 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

/ too have come to play my part, 

So I advise that here our paths we sever ; 

Let each man, as he best shall like, endeavour 

To please his eyes and ease his heart. 

Seek we adventures ! Would we once more meet, 

Let thy flame, cousin dwarf, our eyes all brightly greet. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

So shall it flame — so shall it sound. 

( The glass shakes, and lightens mightily. ) 
Now to the wondrous sights around ! 

faust {alone.) 

Where is she ? Seek not now to ask for more. .... 
If this firm spot hath not her presence known, 
If yon green waves to hail her have not flown, — 
The very airs here breathe of Helen's lore. 
Here, here, in Greece, 'mid classic vale and flood ! 
I felt at once the earth on which I stood. 
What wondrous spell my sleeping frame delighted ? 
Antaeus-like, I seemed by nought affrighted. 
Round me strange forms are crouching. Arm, bold 
soul ! 

Through all this labyrinth I'll seek my goal. 

[ Wanders on, 

mephistopheles (groping round.) 

A kind of nervous awe my senses stiffens ! 
I feel so odd — all things so strange appear ; 
Such naked forms — no score of tunics here ! 
The sphinxes shameless, insolent the griffins, 
And, Heaven or Hell knows what ! things winged, with 
tresses, 

That meet my eyes without our Brocken's dresses. 



102 



FAUST. 



True, we at heart are bad enough I know, 
But really these antiques — too much they show. 
They should be decked and hid in robes of fashion, 
And prudence* garb should hide each wilder passion. 
An odious people ! But I'm doomed to meet them, 
And as a guest, of course am bound to greet them. — 
Hail to the beauteous maids, the greybeards wise! 

griffin {snarling.) 

Not greybeard, sir, but griffin ! No relation 

Betwixt those words, be sure, sir. Words assume 

The primal nature of their derivation : 

Grey, grumbling, grating, groaning, grannam, groom 

Each odious sound our learned ears dismays ; 

I hate your grims and grums, I hate your greys. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Without the slightest wish to start a tiffin, 

I must remark that Grif forms part of Griffin. 

griffin {snarling as above, and so ever after.) 

Me, sir, your base suggestions cannot pain, 

For ignorance was ever wisdom's bane. 

Know, Griffin comes from Gripe. Oh, word sublime 

Revered in every age, 'neath every clime. 

Know he on earth has loudest cause to boast, 

Who grasps the foremost, and who gripes the most. 

ants {of the colossal breed.) 

You speak of gold — vast stores had we collected, 
And hid in mountain caves by night protected ; 
The Arimaspians brought our gold to-day, 
And now they laughing bear the store away. 

griffins. 

We'll force them to confess their sin, believe it ! 



FAUST. 



103 



ARIMASPIANS. 

Not in this night of freedom's glee ; 
To-morrow it spent, and gone shall be. 
Seek all that's left, and ye'll receive it ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES 

(who has seated himself amongst the Sphinxes.) 
How easily I make myself at home ! 
I understand each spirit's tongue around me, 

SPHINX. 

List to our spectral tones ! No further roam — 
And let us hear thee speak, as here we've found thee. 
First name thyself! Say what and whence and why. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Full many names, or right or wrong, have I. 

Are Britons here ? — They're always on their travels 

To view this battle field, that waterfall, 

Deserted haunts, reliques, and ruins all. 

Surely this scene strange mystic sights unravels, 

Would please them well ; they all could swear to me — 

Their plays have dubbed me " Old Iniquity." 

SPHINX. 

Why so ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I'faith, a parlous mystery ! 

SPHINX. 

Amen ! Say, know'st thou yonder orbits bright ? 
What think'st thou of the hour and of the night ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Star after star falls, crescent moon shines clear, 
I feel right warm and happy crouching here, 
And hold thy lion-skin than pearls more dear. 
Think not on yon cold skies where darkness fades, 
But crack a few enigmas and charades. 



104 



FAUST. 



SPHINX. 

Pronounce thyself — the first enigma, thou ! 
Strive if thou canst thyself to analyze : 
e< Needful to all, the wicked and the wise, 
Into the latters' minds low stealth infusing, 
Dark crimes as agents for the others using, 
And ever mighty Jove by sin amusing." 

first griffin {snarling.) 
Out with the knave ! 

second griffin, {still more gruffly.) 
What wants he here? 

BOTH. 

That hideous fellow shall not linger near. 

mepiiistopheles {brutally.) 
Think ye, perchance, my nails can't scratch as well 
As your sharp claws, ye monsters old and fell ? 
Try if ye dare ! 

sphinx {mildly.) 
Here if thou wilt remain, 
Soon of thyself thou'lt long to leave our train. 
In thine own land, perchance, thou'rt a bold blade, 
But here, if I err not, thou'rt sore afraid. 

mephistopheles. 
Your face would prove you no such hideous creature, 
But then the beast your body's out of nature. 

SPHINX. 

False one, this calumny shall punished be ! 

Look at our paws, for nought ails them, 

But thy shrunk hoof shews thy fraternity, 

Of HelVs dark tribe the badge, the pocket mem ! 

(Sirens are heard preluding above.) 



FAUST. 



105 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

'Mid yon tall poplars by the river, 

Rise strains from songsters sweet and wild. 

SPHINX. 

Take heed ! — The wisest, now and ever, 
Such magic warbling hath beguiled. 

sirens [singing.) 
Wherefore, wherefore would ye wander 
'Mid the dark, and strange, and dreary ? 
Lo ! we warble, never weary, 
Strains now soft, now louder, grander, 
That like rippling waves meander. 

sphinxes (mocking them to the same melody.) 

Make them leave their place of hiding ! 
'Neath the leafy boughs abiding, 
They their claws conceal to cheat ye ; 
Roughly will the monsters greet ye 
If ye list their artful strain. 

sirens. 

Hence with Envy! Hate, we shun thee! 
Laughing Pleasure, have we won thee 
'Neath these azure skies again? 
Welcome, joyous smiles and glances, 
Welcome, gleesome songs and dances, 
Flowers and stars of Gladness' train ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Is this the wondrous, far-famed chanting, 
That, every sense with madness haunting, 
Draws mortals towards it by strange art ? 
Such spell with me soon piecemeal crumbles, 
Around my ears the sing-song rumbles, 
But, oh ! it cannot reach my heart. 



106 



FAUST. 



SPHINXES. 

Speak not of hearts ! for thou hast none ; 

A bag, a leathern empty one, 

Would suit thy face so crisped and tart. 

faust (approaching.) 

How strange ! the very sight delights my soul ; 
Hideous and wild — and yet a mighty whole. 
Most happy fortune I anticipate ; 
Of ages speak your eyes, the orbs of Fate ! 

(Pointing to the sphinxes.) 
Before such forms once CEdipus appeared ; 

(Pointing to the sirens,) 
Hemp fetters proved how these Ulysses feared ; 

(Pointing to the ants.) 
Such forms as these concealed the mightiest treasure; 

(Pointing to the griffins.) 

To guard it was these beings' choicest pleasure. 
Fresh life and strength through all my being flies, 
Vast forms I see, and mightier memories. 

mephistopheles. 

At other times such thoughts had bored thee, 
But now they woo thee to delight ; 
Even monsters cause for joy afford thee, 
When thus thou seek'st thy loved one bright. 

FAUST (to the SPHINXES.) 

Ye female forms can aid my search, I ween : 
Hath one of ye fair Helen seen ? 



FAUST. 



107 



SPHINXES. 

We came before her days, O curious stranger ! 

The last of us wild Hercules destroyed. 

Chiron, perchance, the vale and mountain-ranger, 

May tell thee where she strays — in boundless void, 

Or by Elysian shades decoyed. 

He rides around in this strange spectral night ; 

Stops he to tell thee — thou'rt a lucky wight | 

sirens {sing.) 

Not a joy of earth should fail thee! — 
When, abiding here, Ulysses 
Took and gave a thousand kisses, 
Him we hailed as now we hail thee ; 
All he told, with us delaying, 
We will tell thee, gently straying, 
Where beat waves of azure ocean. 

SPHINX. 

Friend, repress thy heart's emotion ! — 
Think not Ulysses here was bound, 
But let our friendly counsel bind thee ; 
Once more I solemnly remind thee, 
All shalt thou learn when Chiron's found. 

[Faust wanders further and disappears in the, 
distance. 

mephistopheles (as if vexed.) 

What rushes past on wings of speed ? 
So quickly eyes no form can heed, 
Still, steed careering after steed, 
So seems it, through the empty air. 

sphinx. 

Like wintry winds in tempests high, 
Alcides' darts scarce faster fly — 



108 



FAUST. 



Strange birds of wondrous speed are these, 

The racing, wild Stymphalides ; 

Their croaking greetings none need scare, 

Geese-feet and vulture's-beaks they bear. 

In airy flight they seek the main, 

And claim relation with our train. 

mephistophel.es {seemingly frightened.) 
What other vermin hiss between ? 

SPHINX. 

Thy fears these creatures need not wake ! 

The heads of the dead Lernian snake— 

They've lost their bodies, yet they ween 

They still are something, as they once have been. 

But say! What wouldst thou? What uncouth grimace 

Wouldst leave us ? — Ah ! the cause I see. 

Yon choir of nymphs with smiling faces 

Invites thee. Go ! seek thy felicity ! 

Hasten to greet full many a charming maid ; 

These are the Lamias — nymphs most bright, 

With lips and eyes that promise all delight, 

And smile on satyrs in the glade ; 

No cloven-foot with them need feel afraid. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Wilt thou stop here, that I again may find thee ? 

SPHINX. 

Ay ! Go — amid yon crowds of loiterers wind thee. 

We, Egypt's children, for some thousand years 

Sit still enthroned amongst our peers, 

By all the passing throng respected ; 

Thus have we sun, moon, stars, long, long directed. 

'Neath the pyramids arising, 

Round us lands and nations fall ; 

Floods, war, peace, as bubbles prizing, 

We unmoved behold them all. 



FAUST. 



SCENE IV. 

The River Peneios, 
(Surrounded by streams and Nymphs.) 
peneios. 

Gently move, ye bending rushes, 
Blooming where the fountain gushes ; 
Whisper light yet mournful willows, 
Trembling poplars kiss my billows, 
Weave ye all a dreamy spell ! — 
But what moves beneath, around me ? 
Tremblings wild, strange sounds confound m 
Earthquake yawns below the dell. 

faust (stepping to the river.) 

Hear I rightly ? — What low chanting 
Breathes around, this silence haunting, 
Through the boughs, the bowers, the glades, 
'Mid these all deserted shades. 
Wavelets lisp like human voices, 
And in tones the breeze rejoices. 

NYMPHS (to FAUST.) 

Oh, follow our counsel, 
And rest thee in gladness ; 
The flowers 'neath the willows 
Shall ease thee of sadness. 
Here slumber, thou blest one, 
Thy labours shall cease; 
We breathe and we warble 
Of gladness and peace, 

K 



S 1 0 FAUST. 



FAUST. 

I sleep not — no ! Yon beauteous forms 
Exist, indeed, and pass before me ; 
These are the nymphs of ancient story, 
My inmost soul their aspect warms. 

Before I saw these maids divine 

In life or dreams ? I know not this ; 

But now, at least, to view them's mine, 

And this I know, that sight is bliss. — 

Lo ! through the vale bright waves are streaming. 

Around them flowers and forests beaming, 

A thousand torrents, wildly gleaming, 

Here meet, here form one beauteous lake; 

And maids with limbs than snow-drops whiter, 

Than stars in skies of azure brighter, 

Their wish to hail the waters slake. 

Behold them, 'mid the wavelets flowing, 

Now swim, now dive, with pleasure glowing, 

And now, a playful combat shewing, 

The gentle echoes round they wake. — 

On these I still should feast mine eyes, 

But lo ! my spirit further flies, 

And seeks to pierce yon leafy bower, 

Where, at this all-momentous hour, 

Their gentle Queen half sleeping lies. 

Strange, most strange !— Lo ! swiftly gliding, 

Proudly o'er the billows riding, 

Swans approach the beauteous scene ; 

Graceful, conscious of their beauty, 

Yet as bent on some sweet duty, 

Birds of proud and regal mien. 

One, though, one, before them all, 

Seems so boldly on to wander 

Where the gentle streams meander, 



FAUST. 



Ill 



Like a monarch in his hall, 
Whom nor waves nor winds appal. 
Lo ! he seeks — most wondrous hour ! 
Seeks the Queen's dark myrtle bower. 
The others to and fro are riding, 
Amid the timid maidens gliding, 
Like guards beside a portal set ; 
Thus with mock strife and kind caresses, 
They cause the nymphs with raven tresses 
Their queen and mistress to forget. 

NYMPHS. 

Sisters, sisters, bend each brow 

To the river's margin now ; 

List and tell me if ye hear 

Charger's hoofs salute the ear. 

What dark herald in his flight 

Wafts strange tidings through the night ? 

FAUST. 

If I err not, earth's resounding 
'Neatha courser onwards bounding ! 

There — there, I gaze ! 

Fortune, thy praise 

Is 't mine to tell ? 
Oh joy, oh gladsome miracle ! 
A horseman comes in hasty course, 
Inspired he seems by zeal and force, 
A milk-white charger bears him on ! — 
'Tis he ! 'tis he ! my goal is won ! 
'Tis Philyra's famed, wondrous son — 
Pause, Chiron, pause ! 

CHIRON. 

What wouldst thou ? 

FAUST. 

Hear me ! Stay | 



112 



FAUST. 



CHIRON. 

I may not rest. 

FAUST. 

Then take me with thee, pray ! 

CHIRON. 

Mount, mount ! Then let me ask, and thou reply ! 
What wouldst ? Thou stray'st beside the river. — Why 
If thou desire 'st, I'll bear thee o'er the stream. 

faust (mounting.) 

Where'er thou wilt ! My thanks shall aye be thine. — ■ 
And see I thee? Is this no idle dream? 
The mighty man, the teacher half divine, 
Who formed a thousand heroes, wise and brave, 
The Argonauts that crossed the bounding wave, 
And all those men of whom earth's poets rave! 

CHIRON. 

W T ell, let them rave ! Of this no more — 
Even Pallas gained as Mentor little honour ; 
The earth jogs on, and fools jog on upon her, 
No whit more fast or slow for all our learned lore. 

FAUST. 

The sage physician, who can name each plant, 
And knows all roots and herbs that health can grant, 
Who heals and cures with power and grace, 
Him here in soul and body I embrace. 

CHIRON. 

Where'er they fell, in fens or ditches, 

Each hero's wounds I healed, and played my part, 

But in the end bequeathed my art 

To womanish monks and haimish witches. 



FAUST. 



113 



FAUST. 

One of the truly great art thou, 
That not a single word of praise allow. 
Such men still hide their matchless worth, 
And speak as if their equals breathed on earth. 

CHIRON. 

In flattery's wiles thou seem'st to take delight — 
Thou art a courteous parasite ! 

FAUST. 

At least confess — for thus much all men know — 
That thou hast seen the mightiest here below. 
Hast sought in deeds all these to emulate ; 
Hast past thy days in calm, half god-like state. 
Come, tell me now — of all the heroic forms, 
Which didst thou prize the most in calms and storms ? 

CHIRON. 

'Midst the brave Argonauts, good stranger, 
Each in his own way met and grasped with danger, 
And each, still following his own best course, 
Excelled by turns, where failed the others' force. 
The Dioscuri ever won the day 
Where youth and beauty bore the palm away. 
Resolve and hasty action, firm and bold 
These marked the Boreades fame-enrolled. 
Thoughtful, yet strong, though brave, in council wise, 
Stood Jason, ever dear in woman's eyes. 
Then Orpheus, with his soul in spheres above, 
Attuned his lyre to strains of war and love. 
Sharp-sighted Lynceus, too, by day and night, 
Guided through rocks and cliffs the vessel light. 
Thus ills are lightened, neighbour aiding neighbour, 
When all praise each, and each for all must labour. 



14 



FAUST. 



FAUST. 

Of Hercules thou nought hast spoken ? 

CHIRON. 

Alas ! — the mournful spell is broken ! — 
Silent for him I mourned in woe ; 
Why hast thou craved of this to know ? 

(After a pause.) 
Phcebus and Ares forms divine, 
I never yet had seen before me, 
When first to mark that youth was mine 
In all his youthful pride and glory ; 
Like to a monarch on his throne, 
As there he stood on earth alone, 
Creation seemed its lord to own. 
He served his brother, though his birth 
Made servitude fit cause for mirth ; 
He served the fairest maid of earth. 
Ne'er more shall Gaa bear such son, 
Nor Hebe lead such youth to heaven ; 
His task is done, his goal is won, 
And bards nor sculptors e'er have given 
Faint semblance of the Perfect One. 

FAUST. 

No Phidias form, like his, shall scan 
In wildest fancy — thought 's too weak ; 
Thou'st spoken of the noblest man, 
Now of the fairest woman speak ! 

CHIRON. 

What ? fair ! Mere female beauty 's nou 

? Tis often cold as rock or stone ; 

Beings by me shall still be sought 

That claim love, life, and light their own. 

Beauty may tire, despite its spell, 

But grace is irresistible, — 

Like Helen's when I bore her here, 



FAUST. 



115 



FAUST. 

Thou bore'st her ? 

CHIRON. 

On my charger's back. 

FAUST. 

Was I not, heart and soul, on Madness' rack, 

And shall I not my reason lack, 

Finding myself where sat that goddess dear ? 

CHIRON. 

Even so she grasped my locks behind, 
As thou dost now. 

FAUST. 

Oh ! all my mind 
Is tempest-tost ! Say, when and how ? 
Her — her alone on earth I seek ! 
Whence bore'st thou her ? Where stays she now? 

CHIRON. 

The former question I can answer. 

FAUST. 

Speak ! 

CHIRON. 

The Dioscuri then with strength and speed 

From robbers' grasp their sister fair had freed ; 

But they not gladly such a prize resigning, 

Rallied, and then pursued, like vultures pining. 

The brothers' and the sister's hasty flight 

The marshes of Eleusis checked. Sad plight ! 

The Dioscuri w r aded, / swam over, 

Helen beside me ; when we reached the strand 

She sprang from off the steed on firm, dry land, 

And stroked his mane, and called him lightsome rover, 

And thanked me, smiling, while she seemed to hover 

Like some bright wood-nymph, round. Oh ! she was fair, 



116 



FAUST. 



And sweet, and kind ! — in truth, a peerless creature, 
The loveliest child of Art and Nature, 

FAUST. 

But seven years old ! 

CHIRON. 

Thy antiquarian lore 
Has cheated thee, and thousands more before. 
A mythologic woman may not be 
Like others judged : she's bardic property ; 
And as the bard directs, for young and old, 
We're bound by turns his heroine to hold. 
She's wooed, wed, captured, all in youth's fresh prime, 
And in a word, bards scorn the laws of time. 

FAUST. 

Then let her by no laws of time be bound ! 
Was she not living by Achilles found 
On Phera, when time was not?* Strange delight ! 
His she became, all Fate's decrees despite, 
And should not I, by love's resistless power, 
Call back to life bright beauty's fairest flower ? 
Eternal being ! more than gods divine, 
Tender as great, — why should she not be mine? 
Thou saw'st her once, but / this day have seen 
That beauteous fair, of all enchantment queen. 
And now, my being 's bound by passion's chain — 
I seek but death, if her I may not gain. 

CHIRON. 

Strange man, to mortals thou mayst seem but wild, 
We spirits deem thee mad ! But, luckily, 
Just once a year on Esculapius' child 
Manto, I call. She tarries here close by, 
And she shall aid thee. Soft and good is she, 
And still implores her father in her prayers 

* Some of the ancients asserted that Helen, after her death, was 
home to the island of Phera, -where she met and loved the shade of 
Achilles. 



FAUST. 



117 



Earth's leeches from their evil ways to turn 

Who all destroy mankind so impiously ; — 

Towards this young sibyl all my heart-strings yearn, 

For gentle and benignant are her cares. 

I doubt not (friend, I speak in sober sadness) — 

That she will cure thee soon of this strange madness. 

FAUST. 

I'll not be cured! Too wild is my desire. 
Canst thou with dew-drops quench a raging fire ? 

CHIRON. 

Make the attempt at least — 'twill harm thee not ; 
And now descend ! Behold ! we've reached the spot ! 

FAUST. 

Say whither, in our fast and furious flight, 
Hast led me through the waters and the night ? 

CHIRON. 

Here Rome and Greece disputed glory's prize ; 
Here bright Peneios — there Olympus lies. 
Like to some river broad, 'mid quicksands lost, 
Earth's noblest realm here perished, tempest- tost, 
And like a dream's remembrance past away ; 
The monarch fled, the burgher won the day. 
Look up ! Lo I stands before thee here 
The Eternal Temple in the moonshine clear.* 

manto [dreaming within,) 

With chargers bounding, 

The Temple's steps resounding, 

Tell that demi-gods are nigh. 

* This somewhat abstruse passage requires an explanation. Manto 
was the priestess of the Delphic Temple and Oracle at Delphi. At this 
temple Faust and Chiron have arrived. Near it, Philip, King of Mace- 
donia, and the last hope of Greece, was defeated by Flaminius, the Pro- 
Consul of the Roman republic. The monarch fled from the field of 
battle, the Roman burghers triumphed. That day sealed the fate of 
Greece, the fading glory of which might indeed be compared to the 
course of a broad river lost amongst quicksands without ever reaching 
the ocean. Soon afterwards Greece became a Roman province. 

L 



118 



FAUST. 



CHIRON. 

'Tis I !— 

Wake up 1 the moments fly. 
manto [waking.) 
Welcome ! I see thou ne'er wilt fail me. 

CHIRON. 

Still 'neath thy temple dost thou hail me ? 

MANTO. 

Dost thou still wander, resting never ? 

CHIRON. 

Dwell'st thou still moveless, bound for ever, 
Whilst I fly fast as zephyrs' sighs ? 

MANTO. 

I wait, and Time around me flies. 
Yon mortal ? 

CHIRON. 

This strange magic night 
Has borne him hither in its flight. 
Helen, with wild and reckless sin, 
Helen he seeks as bride to win. 
Here let him rest thy halls within ! — 
Thy cure divine will quench his fires. 

MANTO. 

He likes me who the impossible desires. 

(c hi RON is already far away.) 

manto (to Faust.) 
Enter, thou bold one ! Gladness shall be thine. 
Yon darksome passage leads to Proserpine ; 
There in Olympus' inmost caves 
She sits within her realm of ghosts and graves. 
Here Orpheus entrance found through me ; 
Be bold, and thou'lt have better luck than he ! 
Go ! search for thy Eurydice ! 

(They descend.) 



FAUST. 



119 



SCENE V. 

Another part of the river Peneios. — Beautiful landscape. 

SIRENS. 

Cast ye in Peneios' stream ! 
There the waves with echoes haunting, 
Dive and bathe ye, softly chanting, 
Like sweet voices in a dream. 
Water is earth's noblest boon ! 
Let us seek in rapid motion 
Now the blue Egean ocean, 
There to sport beneath the moon. 

(Earthquake.) 

SIRENS. 

Ha ! the waves are wildly rushing, 
O'er their banks like torrents gushing ; 
Lo ! earth trembles, waters soar, 
Clefts are gaping on the shore. 
Fly, oh ! fly, from danger drear ! 
Haste, for ruin fell is near. 

Haste ye, nymphs — delay were madness — 
To the ocean-feast of gladness, 
There, where, far from gloomy willows, 
Play the gently swelling billows, 
There, where Luna shines above ye, 
And by smiles would light and love ye- 
Here on earth is fierce commotion, 
Freedom woos ye on the ocean ; 
Fraught with woes is all delay, 
Heed my warning — haste away ! 

M 



120 



FAUST. 



SEISMOS. 

{muttering, puffing, and blustering beneath the earth.) 

Well done ! — Once more use thy shoulders ! 
'Neath thy grasp earth crumbling moulders. 
Thou, amazing all beholders, 
Through earth's depths shalt soar to light ! 

SPHINXES. 

What a horrid earthquake's grumbling ! 
What detested thunder's rumbling ! 
Earth is quivering, croaking, quaking, 
All things to and fro are shaking. 
What a strange and fearful sight ! 
But 1 care not ; nought shall move me, 
Though hell burst and soared above me. 

Lo ! a vault is slowly rising 

From the abyss. Ah ! strange — surprising ! 

That old man, I mark astounded, 

Who the island Delos founded, 

And for one who strayed forlorn 

Dragged it from the ocean torn.* 

He, still roaring, riving, rending, 

Arms outstretching, shoulders bending, 

Atlas-like, 'mid caverns' mazes, 

Field, and cliff, and earth upraises, 

Sand and pebbles, grit and gravel, 

In his subterranean travel. 

Thus he opes, which must offend us, 

In our dale a cleft tremendous. 

This Colossus, wildly striving, 

All the valley rending, riving, 

Half from earth has soared, molesting 



* Latona, persecuted by Juno, strayed over the ocean, not knowing 
where to tarry, until the island of Delos was raised from the deep to 
receive her. Terra had refused to bear her. 



FAUST. 



121 



Our calm haunts, all dangers breasting ; 
Half his frame below is resting. 
Further up he shall not roam, 
For this is the Sphinxes home. 

SEISMOS. 

'Tis I have brought this work about ; 

Henceforward none I ween will doubt my power. 

Had I not pushed and rumbled in and out, 

Earth had not beauty for her dower ! — 

How would your mountains soar to heaven, 

Their peaks through azure ether gleaming, 

If I had not the impulse given, 

Which tore them from the abyss, upriven, 

Where they as shapeless blocks lay dreaming ? 

'Twas then before the great progenitors, 

Chaos and Night, that I my power displayed ; 

And with the Titans — like to marble stores — 

With Pelion, Ossa, and such molehills played 

Thus we in youthful mirth did gambol, 

Till, at the end, tired out with sport, 

We placed those two, in one last gamesome scramble, 

On high Parnassus — like twain nightcaps swart. 

There now the bright Apollo lingers 

With all the train of Muses fair. 

Jove on his throne, bolts playing round his fingers, 

'Twas mine to raise aloft in air. 

Thus now, with strains of force tremendous, 

I from the dark abyss have soared, 

And call on ye, for this my mount stupendous, 

Inhabitants befitting to afford. 

SPHINXES. 

Yonder mountain we should deem 
Grey and old as old can be, 
Had we not, in no vain dream, 
Seen it soar before our e'e. 

m 2 



122 



FAUST. 



Lo ! bushy forests o'er it spread their shade, 
Cliff follows cliff, from depths, — they fill the glade ; 
We from our sacred thrones will never rove : 
Trifles like these us Sphinxes may not move. 

GRIFFINS. 

Gold in veins and spangles glitters ; 
All my frame in gladness titters. 
When 'tis won, we'll well maintain it : 
Emmets ! up the heights to gain it ! 

CHORUS OF ANTS. 

Where Giants' force sublime 
Heaved forth a mountain, 
Swift Dwarfish nations climb, 
Seeking wealth's fountain. 
Fly, run, creep, in and out! 
In such recesses 
Gold veins, that peep about, 
Court your caresses. 
Nought must ye leave unwon, 
All scraps discover ; 
Round crannies creep and run 
Under and over. 
Unwearied be your toil, 
Gain be your glory ; 
Seize on the golden spoil ! 
Grasp all before ye ! 

GRIFFINS. 

Bring gold ! bring gold ! yet more, and more 
Our claws shall guard the precious store. 
No bolts like these can dangers ward, 
The mightiest treasure well they guard. 



PIGMIES. 

Lo ! we too our place have taken, 
How this chanced we cannot tell — 



FAUST. 



123 



Ancient haunts forgot, forsaken, 
Drawn by some resistless spell ; 
Ask not whence we hither roam ! 
Where we breathe we find a home. 
Life in every land may gladden, 
And wheree'er cliffs' fissures ope, 
Dwarfs, whom nought can tire or sadden, 
Male and female, sport in hope. 
Little pairs together toiling, 
Never tiring, ever gay, 
Gold from earth's recesses spoiling, 
Still we sport and work for aye. 
Gladly now we hail this mountain, 
And upon us smiles joy's star ; 
Mother Earth, of wealth vast fountain, 
Spreads her treasures near and far. 

DACTYLES. 

If in one wondrous night 

Small dwarfs she brings to light, 

Dactyles minuter she'll call into being, 

Granting them touching, taste, hearing, and seeing. 

PIGMY LEADERS. 

Haste, in rocks' centre 
Dwellings to enter, 
And then work stoutly ! 
Pray, too, devoutly. 
Now though peace joy ye, 
War will destroy ye, 
Forge ye not sabres 
For your hosts' labours. 

Emmets, all featly, 
Toiling so neatly, 
Bring metals fleetly ! 
Dactyles, slight creatures, 



124 



FAUST, 



With viewless features, 
Haste from each dingle, 
Shavings to mingle ! 
Young flames assemble, 
Dimly that tremble, 
Bring coals that tingle, 

FIELD MARSHAL. 

With bow and quiver 
Haste to yon river ! 
There o'er the water 
Wild herons slaughter ; 
Haughty and angry race, 
Usurping that fair place, 
Shoot all their train ! 
Dire be their usage ; 
Crests from their plumage 
We then shall gain. 

EMMETS AND DACTYLES. 

Oh who can save us ? 
We must toil ever, 
These pygmies brave us, 
Vain our endeavour 
To rend their fetters — 
Serve then our betters ! 

THE CRANES OF IBYCUS„* 

Shouts and groans of anguish meeting. 
Quivering pinions wildly beating, 
Moaning, shrieking, clamour wild, 
Reach us in the ether mild. 
Ha ! behold our comrades perished, 
All we loved and dearly cherished. 



* Ibycus, a poet, whose murderers were discovered through the me- 
dium of a swarm of cranes. — See Notes at the conclusion. 



FAUST. 



125 



Lo ! their lifeblood stains the river, 

And the odious pigmy's quiver 

Hath our herons pierced to gain 

Snow-white feathers for their train. 

See them nodding o'er the features 

Of these round-paunched crook-legged creatures ! 

Ye companions of our host, 

Who with us o'er ocean post, 

Ye, we call, to lend your aid, 

That foul treachery's price be paid. 

None should spare or force or blood, 

Vengeance on the faithless brood ! 

( They disperse in the air, croaking in all directions.) 

mephistopheles (in the plain.) 

My northern witches I could manage well, 
But these strange spirits seem inscrutable. 
The Brocken's so convenient for such revels ; 
There none can lose their way, nor men nor devils. 
There's Madam Ilsa on her Stone still waking, 
And on his Height lies Henry rest forsaking; 
The Snorers grunt indeed in their Despair* — 
But all things are as evermore they were. 
Walking or standing, say, who knows here ever, 
Whether firm earth may not beneath him sever ? 
I wander gaily through an open vale, 
When, lo ! behind me, all at once, (a tale 
Of Eastern witchcraft this,) a mountain rises, 
Which, tho' not overhuge, my soul surprises. 
And parts me from my Sphinxes.- — Lo ! bright fires 
Still gleam along the vale, and wake desires 
For strange adventures. Still before me flies 
The maiden quire, singing light melodies, 

* Ilsenstein, Heinrichshohe, Schnarcherelend. (Ilsa'sstone, Henry 's- 
height, Snorersdespair, or Misery.) These are the names of peculiar 
cliffs on the Brocken or Hartz mountain. 



126 



FAUST. 



Laughing and dancing. Haste, some prize secure ! 
Where'er I rove I'll woo, when beauties lure ; 
Tasting for tasting prompts desire, — be sure ! 

lamias (inciting mephistopheles to folloiv them.) 

Fast and still faster ! 
Onwards for ever ! 
Briefly delaying, 
Laughing and playing, 
Blithe our endeavour 
To lure Sin's master 
Further to wander ; 
Loudly he grumbles, 
Now stands, now stumbles, 
Laughing and groaning, 
Panting and moaning ; 
Thus 'gainst his will, 
Where we meander, 
He follows still. 

mephistopheles (stopping.) 

Curst fate ! Thou dolt — thou aged fool — 

Like men, who all were ever boys at school, 

From Adam downwards — where's thy reason ? 

Old we may get, but who grows wise ? 

Thou knew'st the beings flitting 'fore thy eyes 

Were nought — ay, worse that nought ! that stars and paint 

Were all their beauty ! — Fiends that ape the saint ! 

Yet thou'rt beguiled by such like clumsy treason. 

Thou know'st their bodies are mere bags of paper, 

That he who grasps them meets a misty vapour ; 

Thou know'st all this — 'tis clear as day — 

And yet thou dancest when the wretches play. 

lamias (also stopping.) 

Hold ! he reflects, he pauses, stops ! — Confound him ! 
Return to hail the fool — salute, surround him. 



FAUST. 



127 



mephistopheles (continuing his course.) 

On ! on ! 'tis now no time to doubt — 
Fancy the foul and fair may level ; 
And if no witches roved about, 
Say who the Devil would be Devil ? 

lamias (most enticingly.) 

Round this hero mix and mingle ! 
Love within his inmost bosom 
One of us will surely single. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

'Neath pale moonbeams oft deceiving, 
Fair ye seem, sweet lovespells weaving, 
And my nerves with gladness tingle. 

empusa* (pushing herself into the circle.) 
I am fair too ! Let me enter, 
Flying round your circle's centre. 

LAMIAS. 

We want not her amongst our train, 
She ever turns our sport to pain. 

EMPUSA (to MEPHISTOPHELES.) 

Should I, thy cousin, stand aloof, 
Empusa with the ass's hoof? 
A horse's hoof alone hast thou, 
And yet, kind coz, I hail thee now. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Here strangers all I thought to greet, 
But, sad to tell, relations meet. 
'Tis an old tale ! They swarm by dozens, 
From Hazz to Hellas nought but cousins. 

* Ev ttooq, goddess with an ass's hoof, a messenger or herald of 
Hecate, supposed by some authors to be Hecate herself. 



128 



FAUST. 



EMPUSA. 

Firm and decided is my will, 
And many a part I play with skill ; 
But now, all false disguises gone, 
My ass's head for thee I don. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I see this people (most dread torment !) 
Think all relationship important ; 
But come what may, my feelings cry — 
This ass's head thou must deny ! 

LAMIAS. 

Leave this deformed one ! all that's fair 
And bright and lovely she doth scare ; 
Whate'er was bright and fair before, 
She nears, she comes — 'tis fair no more. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Ye too, however soft and tender, 
I something doubt, ye virgins slender ; 
And 'neath those cheeks that promise bliss, 
I fear a metamorphosis. 

LAMIAS. 

Well, try thy fortune S We are many ; 

Quick gripe us, grasp us, all or any, 

Perchance the fairest prize is thine. 

Thou dovelike biller, silly cooer, 

In truth thou seem'st a wretched wooer, 

Although thou strut'st about so fine. — 

He bites ! — Now act the scheme we've planned on, 

And by degrees your masks abandon ; 

Let him your own true forms divine ! 



FAUST. 



129 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

This one's most fair ! I'll tempt my doom — 

(Embracing her.) 
Oh — humbug ! What a thin old broom ! 

(Seizing another.) 
And this one ?~ Bah ! What curst deceit ! 

LAMIAS. 

Sure such a prize for thee is meet. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

This tiny maid who smiling lingers — 

Lacerta slips from out my fingers ! 

And all her tresses snakelike seem. 

I'll seize that tall one, sad and lonely — 

A Thyrsus-pole I've grappled only, 

On which as pate a pear doth beam. 

What more? What next? A damsel lusty — 

Of embonpoint a prize she must be — 

Again I'll try my fate. Again ! 

Faith ! what a large and yielding treasure ! 

In such take Turks and Persians pleasure — 

But woe ! the bladder bursts in twain ! 

LAMIAS. 

Quick, disunite ye, soar and sever ! 
Circling with lightning speed, endeavour 
To cow this stranger son of night. 
Mysterious wondrous rings entwining, 
Flitting like bats at midnight pining, 
Before ye part his soul affright. 

mephistopheles (shaking himself.) 

Wiser as yet it seems I scarce have grown ; 
All things are humbugs vain I own. 



FAUST. 



Here in the south — in northern spheres 

The race of Sprites still vile appears. 

Which is the worst ? I know not, on my word. 

Poets and people are in both absurd ! 

This was an idle masquerade, 

Such as on earth hath everywhere been played. 

To seeming beauteous forms I sought to cleave, 

Monsters my senses flabbergasted 

Myself I gladly would deceive 
If the cheat longer lasted. 

(Losing himself amongst the rocks.) 

Where am I now? What fiend can guess? 

The path has grown a wilderness. 

Hither I roamed o'er firm smooth ways, 

Now yon strange mount my course delays. 

Vainly I climb in toil and pain, 

When shall I find my Sphinx again ? 

This is, I own, a wondrous sight — 

So vast a mountain in one night ! 

That was a witches' ride indeed, 

They brought their Brocken as their steed. 

okeas (from his natural cliffs.) 

Here climb ! My mountain's old, in sooth, 
And stands as erst it stood in youth. 
Honour my cliff where pale stars wink 
Of Pindus* heights the farthest link. 
Thus did I proudly lift my head, 
When o'er me vanquished Pompey fled. 
Yon magic mount, wild fancy's play 
Shall vanish with the morning's ray. 
Such idle visions oft I marked arise, 
And quickly fade again, before my eyes. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Honour to thee, thou ancient Mountain's head ! 
By lofty oaks engarlanded. 



FAUST. 



131 



The moon in this her hour of power 

Can waft no rays through thy dark bower — 

But lo ! 'neath yonder bushes strays 

A light that beams with modest rays. 

Things shape themselves most fitly thus ! 

In sooth it is, Homunculus. 

Whence comest thou, sage, but tiny rover? 

HOMUNCULUS. 

From spot to spot I lightly hover, 

And wish some means to find of gaining Being. 

How gladly would I burst my glass in twain ! 

But still I pause, the worst foreseeing, 

Unless some sage and potent aid I gain. 

To tell thee truth — with all my might and main 3 

I strive to list the wondrous theories 

Of two Philosophers, most learn'd and wise, 

Who Nature, Nature, above all things prize. 

This wondrous pair I will not leave — 

Earthly existence' cause they must conceive ; 

And sure, ere long the twain, all things foreseeing, 

Will teach me where to turn to seek for Being. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

In this thy instinct trust alone ! 

Whoe'er in spectral doubts and visions errs, 

Is welcome to Philosophers. 

To clear your doubts they add some dozen more, 
And from one spectre raise a spectral store. 
Who errs and wanders soon claims truth his own ; 
Wouldst spring to life, seek thou that life alone ! 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Good counsel should not always slighted be. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Well then, farewell ! We soon the end shall see. 

( They part.) 



132 



FAUST. 



ANAXAGORAS, (to THALES.) 

Thy obstinate conviction nought can change. 
What further proof requirest thou, doubter strange ? 

THALES. 

Before each breeze the wave or sinks or soars, 
The rock moves not, though round it ocean roars. 

ANAXAGORAS. 

Yon mount from Fire alone has sprung to life. 

THALES. 

Water with vast Creation's power is rife. 

homunculus (between them.) 

O let me go betwixt ye twain ! 
Being and life I seek to gain. 

ANAXAGORAS. 

Hast thou, O Thales, ever in one night, 

A mount like this from slime brought forth to light ? 

THALES. 

Never did Nature in her wondrous course 
To days, and nights, and hours, restrict her force ; 
She forms by rules all beings great and small, 
Never by force, gently or not at all. 

ANAXAGORAS. 

Here force ivas used ! Plutonic angry fire 
Bursting like mists iEolian, in wild ire, 
Broke through the firm and ancient crust of earth, 
So that at once this mountain sprung to birth. 

THALES. 

Well, well, what good results from all our strife? 
The mountain's there, howe'er it soared to life. 



FAUST. 



133 



Temper and time we lose as thus we blunder, 
And foolish mortals list, and gape, and wonder. 

ANAXAGORAS. 

Behold ! the mountain's thronged already 
With pygmies, ants, and emmets steady. 
With myrmidons, and all such gear, 
Small tiny things like this one here. 

{To Homunculus.) 

Great yet thou ne'er to be hast sought, 
Hast lived in solitude for nought ; 
If thou canst reign, (no easy thing !) 
I'll have thee crowned the Pygmies' king. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

What says my Thales ? 

THALES. 

I say No ! 

Who lives with dwarfs shall dwarfish grow. 
The dwarf 'midst giants shoots on high. 
Behold yon blackest cloud of cranes ! 
For pygmies weave they ruin's chains, 
And so the pygmies' king would slay. 
With sharpest beaks, and pointed claws, 
They rush on dwarfs to glut their maws ; 
Destruction nears without delay. 
A crime destroyed the herons' train, 
Resting on yonder watery plain ; 
And lo ! the keen and murderous darts, 
Fixed in those hapless herons' hearts, 
Have roused their relatives to rage ; 
And thus with pygmies war they wage. 
What aids them shield, and helm, and spear ? 
Their heron-crests fresh blows invite, 



134 



FAUST* 



Dactyles and emmets hide in night — 
The Pygmies pause, turn, fly in fear ! 

ANAXAGORAS. 

(After a pause, solemnly.) 

If, Subterranean Powers, 'twas mine to prove 

Your aid, ye now I call on Gods above 

Thou, Endless one, for wisdom famed, 

Thou triply-formed and triply-named, 

In this my chosen people's danger drear, 

Diana, Luna, Hecate, hear ! 

Thou of the lofty breast, whose tongue is balm, 

Mild in thy glory, mighty in thy calm, 

Let from thy realm of shades power's essence flow, 

Thy ancient force despite all magic show ! 

(Pause.) 

Am I too quickly heard ? 

Has my prayer, 

To powers of air, 

The elements of Nature stirred ? 

Ha ! ever vaster, ever brighter shown, 

It comes, it comes, the Goddess' circling throne, 

Fearful to mark — how strange it gleams ! 

Its fire like some red comet beams. 

Pause, pause, approach not ! Sphere of Glory ! 

Ocean and earth shall shrink to nought before thee 

True then it is, that wild Thessalian Witches 

Have wooed thee in their magic fytches 

From thy celestial course of joy, 

Have taught, have urged thee to destroy ? 

Lo ! on its surface darkness lies — 
Ha ! thunder grumbles, lightning flies ! 
At once a tempest rages wild ! — 
Before thy throne behold thy child ! 



FAUST. 



The fearful spell 'twas his to dare, 

He called thee hither — spare, oh, spare ! 

(Falls with his face to the earth.) 

THALES. 

What wondrous things this strange man hears and sees ! 

I comprehend not mysteries, 

And, truth to say, see naught at all ; 

These are mad hours, yet planets do not fall — 

Luna is sitting where she sat before, 

As mild and cosy as of yore. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Look at the pigmies' mount ! I vow, 
The hill all round is pointed now. 
That shock I sha'n't forget so soon ; 
A rock has fallen from the moon, 
And reckless, blind as wind and weather, 
Has crushed both friends and foes together. 
Such arts as these I needs must praise, 
Which by their power, in one strange night, 
A mountain vast — most wondrous sight ! 
From high above and far below can raise. 

THALES. 

'Twas but a dream, like poets' lays ! 
Such broods should fall sans grace or aid ; 
'Tis well that thou no King wast made. 
Now haste to Ocean's feasts so rare, 
Wonders like thee are welcome there. 

(They withdraw.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

(Climbing on the other side of the mount.) 

Thus must I up these rocky summits strain, 
And through oak-stumps my members train ! 

N 



136 



FAUST. 



On my Hartz -mountain there's a resinous vapour, 
That breathes of pitch, and makes one long to caper ; 

And then the brimstone Here, 'mid these dull 

Greeks, 

There's no such fragrant stench to woo to freaks ; 
I really very much should like to know, 
How they keep up their flames of hell below. 

DRYAS. 

In thine own land thou may'st display ability, 
But here, 'mid strangers, shew'st no versatility. 
Thou shouldst not mope, and pine, and groan for home ; 
Admire these sacred oaks — at Rome, like Rome ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

We can't help thinking on what once was ours, 
All, Eden seems, we knew in former hours. 
But say, what in yon cave, where faint rays fall, 
'Mid darkness visible hath triply squatted ? 

DRYAS. 

The Phorcyades ! Pay the maids a call ; 
Address them, if thou'rt not by fright besotted. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Why should I not ? . . . I gaze, and I admire ! 

Plain truth to tell, forms of such hideous mien, 

So admirably vile, I ne'er have seen : 

What are to them our Phantoms' choir? 

Will the most Ancient Sins again, 

Seem hideous in the least, or plain, 

To all this Triad marking een ? 

Not at our worst Hell's gates, could e'er 

We devils forms so hideous bear. 

Here amid beauty's land they root, 

A sphere antique indeed, and vile to boot .... 



FAUST. 



137 



They move, they feel my presence — tiger-cats ! 
They hiss, they whistle, like to Vampire-bats. 

PHORCYADES. 

Sisters ! give me the eye, that I may ask, 
Who dares so near our Temple's gates to bask. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

High honoured Maids ! Permit me here to stray, 

And for your triple blessing thrice to pray. 

A stranger, I my homage to you give, 

Yet, as I deem, a distant relative. 

Vast ancient Gods I often have beheld, 

To Ops and Rhea lowly bowed of eld ; 

Your sisters, Chaos race, the Parcae eke, 

I saw them yesterday — or else, last week ; 

But truth to tell, your equals ne'er I viewed, 

Charmed now I pause in all delighted mood. 

PHORCYADES. 

This ghost is sensible, I must confess. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Why has no poet sung your charms excess ? 
Oh, say ! how is't, how was't, how could it be, 
That ne'er your forms depictured smiled on me? 
On Sculptors' blocks your beauties should appear, 
Not Juno, Pallas, Venus, and such gear. 

PHORCYADES. 

Here sunk in solitude, in darkness' ring, 

We three have never thought of such a thing ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

How should you ? thus from all the world retired, 
By none beheld — and, ah ! by none admired; 

n 2 



138 



FAUST. 



In such like spots it should be yours to dwell 
Where Pomp and Art the praise of beauty tell, 
Where every day in wild and eager course, 
Some new young hero issues in his force. 
Where 

PHORCYADES. 

Peace, no more ! Awake not vain desires ! 

We still must freeze 'mid snows, though burn bright fires ; 

Here born in Night, with Night entwined alone, 

To all, and almost to ourselves, unknown. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

If that's the case, your plan's as clear as day ; 

Ourselves to others we can pass away. 

One eye, one tooth's sufficient for ye three;* 

So may ye manage, through Mythology, 

In two the " ens" or life of three to fold, 

And the third form to lend (the prayer is bold,) 

To me for some short time. 

ONE OF THE TRIAD. 

What think ye ? 

THE OTHERS. 

Try ! 

ALL THE THREE. 

Take then one form ! — but not the tooth or eye. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Oh, that mayn't be ! You always pass about them ;f 
The picture ne'er can be complete without them. 

* The Phorcyades, sisters of the Gorgons, had only one eye and one 
tooth between them. 

f They were in the habit of taking this eye and tooth by turns. 



FAUST. 



139 



ONE. 

Close thou one eye, the goal is lightly won, 
Shew thou one wise tooth only and 'tis done ; 
And then thy profile, as thou soon shalt see, 
Will be exactly like us sisters three. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Great goal, indeed ! — So be 't ! 

PHORC YADES. 

So be 't ! 

mephistopheles (as a Phorcyas in profile.) 

'Tis done ! 
Behold old Chaos' much loved son ! 

PHOKCYADES. 

Daughters of Chaos we — in this thou'rt right. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

O shame ! They'll dub me now hermaphrodite. 

PHORCYADES. 

What wondrous beauty in us sisters three ! 
We have two eyes, and eke two teeth have we. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Away ! away ! I now must shun the light, 

In Hell's abyss the very fiends to fright. \_Exit. 



140 



FAUST. 



SCENE VI. 

Bays surrounded by cliffs of the Egean Ocean. — Moon 
beaming in her zenith. 

SIRENS, 

(Couched on the rocks around s playing and singing.) 

If when Night creation shrouded, 

And black mists the ether clouded, 

Wild Thessalia's maids uniting, 

Wooed thee downwards, blasting, blighting, 

Now, O Moon, in peace delighting, 

Keep thy course in soft emotion, 

And on azure waves of ocean 

Cast thy pale, yet golden rays. 

See ! we kneel in praise before thee, 

Fairest Luna beam in glory ! 

nereids and tritons (the wonders of the deep.) 

Let us join the magic chorus, 
O'er the waves which hither bore us, 
Let us ocean's dwellers call ! 
Raged without the tempest wildly, 
When soft strains that echoed mildly 
Wooed us to the Sirens' hall. 

See ! in joy and rapturous madness, 
Round us twined we chains of gladness ; 
Golden chains and pearls all beaming 
Now as belts and bracelets gleaming. 
These to you alone we owe ! 
E'en those dead and senseless treasures 



FAUST. 



141 



Your sweet song of joys and pleasures, 
Sirens, hither caused to flow. 

SIRENS. 

Well we know 'mid waves of ocean 
Fishes glide in soft commotion, 
Hither, thither, fresh and free ; 
But to-day we'd fain discover 
If ye gliders ocean over, 
More than fishes chance to be. 

NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 

This to shew, ere here we wandered, 

We had vowed while we meandered ; 

Sisters, brothers, haste afar ! 

For to-day one hasty travail 

Needs must prove beyond all cavil 

That we more than fishes are. [ They hasten away. 

SIRENS. 

Away they haste — away ! 

To Samothrace they stray. 

Fair breezes speed them, waves waft them afar. 

What seek they with eagerness fiery 

In the realm of the mighty Cabiri ? 

Gods strange are these, the lords of fate, 

Who ever themselves in their course create. 

Yet know not whence or what they are.* 

Still in yon blue depths above, 
Gentlest Luna, smile in love ; 

* Cabiri, certain deities held in the greatest veneration at Thebes and 
Lenmos, but more particularly in the island of Samothrace. Their fes- 
tivals were celebrated with the utmost mystery and solemnity at this 
island, where almost all the ancient heroes and princes were initiated. 
These mysteries it was unlawful to reveal. The number of these deities 
is uncertain. Some say there were only two, Jupiter and Bacchus. 
Others mention three and some four, Aschieros, Achiochersa, Achio- 
cerus, and Camillus. 



142 



FAUST. 



That night may rule earth's sphere 
And no day-beams appear. 

thales (on the shore, to homunculus.) 

To ancient Nereus I would gladly lead thee, 

Near is his cave, but then he might not heed thee, 

For he has misanthropic grown, 

And thinks but of himself alone. 

Whate'er mankind may say or do, 

He finds them wrong and vicious too. 

The future though 'tis his to see, 

So all respect his deep sagacity, 

And to his post due homage pay ; 

There's many a man too he hath really aided. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Then let by us his dwelling be invaded ! 
Knock and arouse him ! If he " no" should say, 
Naught's lost. He scarce will crack my glass, or quench 
my ray. 

NEREUS. 

Do human voices in my ear resound ? 

How doth my inmost heart in anger bound ! 

Forms striving to attain the Gods' degree, 

Yet ever doomed themselves alone to be. 

Now long long years I might have dozed in gladness, 

But / still helped the best — thus urged my madness ; 

And when at last my words' results I numbered, 

I found that I might just as well have slumbered. 

THALES. 

And still, O Ocean-Sage, in thee all trust ; 
Grant us thy counsel, or despair we must ! 
Behold this flame that like a mortal beams ; 
Thy aid it prays, all wise thy counsel deems. 



FAUST. 



143 



NEREUS. 

Counsel ? Hath that e'er swayed Man's hopes and fears ? 

The wisest words must sleep in foolish ears. 

Repentant, if they turn my aid to win, 

Forthwith again their follies they begin. 

With what paternal anxious care I strove, 

Paris to warn against his reckless love ! 

There on the Grecian shore he boldly stood 

Whilst 1 revealed in deep prophetic mood, 

How — when the air inflamed like fire should beam, 

When walls should totter, blood from hosts should stream, 

Troy from its pride would fall in future days, 

An endless theme of woe for Poet's lays. 

The wild youth deemed such words weak Age's spell, 

He followed his desires, and Ilion fell — 

A corse gigantic, after years of strife, 

And Pindus' eagles fed where once was life. 

Uiysses too ! to him I all foretold ; 

Circe's deceits, the rage of Cyclops bold, 

His own delays, his followers' want of care, 

And — Heaven knows what ! Did he the better fare ? 

No, idly still he wandered ocean o'er, 

Till its waves cast him on a friendly shore. 

THALES. 

Such conduct must indeed a wise man pain : 
But he who's good will recommence again. 
To him a grain of gratitude seems more, 
Than keen ingratitude — an endless store. 
And nothing slight we now implore from thee : 
This boy would spring to life, would live, would be. 

NEREUS. 

Oh, wound not the soft temper of my mind ! 
For me this night is wondrous joy designed ; 
Hither I now have summoned all my daughters, 
Dorides fair, the Graces of the Waters. 



144 



FAUST. 



Neither on earth, nor in Olympus fair, 

Beings so brightly lovely breathe the air. 

They leap with grace that charms the soul indeed, 

From ocean-monsters each on Neptune's steed, 

And twine within the element, like dreams, 

So that the very foam to bear them seems. 

In Venus' many-coloured Pearly Car 

Comes fairest Galatea, like a star, 

Who since the Cyprian Goddess left her fane 

In Paphos reigns, and evermore shall reign. 

And thus the Fair inherits, she alone, 

The Temple- City, and the Chariot- Throne. 

Away ! in such an hour of joy divine. 
No thoughts or words of anger should be mine. 
Away to Proteus ! — He may aid, foreseeing, 
How one who yet is not, should spring to being. 

(Retires towards the se 

THALES. 

By this last step we naught have gained, I fear. 
If we find Proteus, he may disappear, 
And if he speaks, naught clear or sure he'll tell, 
But talk like some perplexing Oracle. 
However, thou some counsel sure dost need, 
So let us try our fortune ! — Here proceed ! 

( They wander o 

sirens {above — on the rocks.) 

What see we dimly gliding, 
O'er ocean billows riding ? 
As if 'neath breezes bending, 
White sails were hither wending, 
Thus beam they o'er the waters, 
Like snow-white ocean daughters. 
Descend ! they land before us, 
Hear ye their gladsome chorus ? 



FAUST. 



145 



NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 

In what we now are bearing 
Ye'll joy our pleasure sharing. 
Chelona's shields gigantic 
Hide forms most strange and antic ; 
Gods are our new won treasure ; 
Sing lays of joy and pleasure! 

SIRENS. 

Of tiny forms. 
Yet Lords of Storms,* 
Aiders in danger's hour, 
Vast ancient Gods of Power. 

NEREIDS AND TRITONS, 

We bring the high Cabiri 
To quench Wars' signals fiery, 
In peace to reign above us, 
And Neptune teach to love us. 

sirens, (to the Cabiri.) 
We own your might ; 
When vessels sink in night, 
'Tis yours the helpless ones to save, 
Who else were whelmed in the Ocean-grave. 

NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 

Three hither we now have carried, 
The Fourth behind us tarried ; 
He said that in foul and fair weather, 
He thought for the rest all together. 

SIRENS. 

One God at other Godsf 
With contempt nods. 

* The power of the Cabiri was supposed to be great in protecting 
from shipwreck and storm. 

f See Notes at the conclusion of this work, 



FAUST, 

All with veneration, 
Hail in celebration ! 

NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 

Of them in all there are Seven. 

SIRENS. 

Where are those three then ? In Heaven 

NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 

Their forms nor maid, child, or man see ; 
They're in Olympus we fancy. 
There too the eighth one is growing, 
As yet unknown and unknowing ! 
Doubt not our blessings they'll number, 
Though now they as embryos slumber. 

These strange Powers by wondrous spell 
Ever further strive to wander, 
Seeking as they still meander 
For the Unattainable. 

SIRENS. 

'Twas ours of yore, 
And evermore, 
Of prayers a store, 
To pray each ruler of Heaven before. 

NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 

How brightly doth our Glory beam ! 
Its flames are high and fiery. 

SIRENS. 

Heroes of ancient time, 

Such glory in their prime 

Won not, though bright they gleam. 

The Golden Fleece a prize they deem, 

Yours are the Cabiri ! 



FAUST. 147 

(Repeated in universal Chorus.) 

The Golden Fleece a prize they deem, 
Yours, ours, the Cabiri ! 

NEREIDS AND TRITONS 

(pass swimming on and disappear.) 

HOMUNCULUS. 

These monstrous forms seem naught to me 
But earthen pans and pots ; 
Sages, who wonders think to see, 
Lose time and pains, God wots ! 

THALES* 

The more absurd* the more they're mystical ; 
A coin not rusty nothing's worth at all. 

PROTEUSj (unseen.) 

Such sights as these delight my soul ; 
Humbug and Mystery — thrice worthy goal ! 

THALES. 

Where art thou, Proteus ? 

PROTEUS, 

(speaking as a Ventriloquist ; , now near, now far.) 

Here ! — and here ! 

THALES. 

What — the old joke ? Well, well. But now, appear ! 

Not on a friend thy follies wreak ; 

Thou art not where thou seem'st to speak. 

proteus (as from the distance.) 

Farewell ! 



148 



FAUST. 



thales {aside to homunculus.) 

He's now quite near. Beam like light's torrent ! 
He's curious as a fish I'll warrant ; 
And thus where'er he strays, or whence, or whither, 
By flames we may attract him hither. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

My flame forthwith to life I'll wake, 
Yet gently so as not my glass to break. 

proteus {in the form of a Giant Tortoise.) 
What beams there with snch pleasing light ? 

thales {covering homunculus.) 

If thou dost wish, I'll let thee have a sight. 
But this slight trouble thou must undergo, 
To walk on legs like others here below. 
He who would that behold which we can hide, 
Must by our fancy's laws abide. 

proteus [nobly formed.) 
Sooth, I must own, thou well dost take thy measures. 

thales. 

Forms still to change seems chief of all thy pleasures. 
{He has uncovered Homunculus.) 

proteus (astonished.) 
A gleaming dwarf ! — Ne'er seen such in my life ! 

thales. 

He asks thy aid, for Being he is rife ! 

From what he's told me of his birth, 

It seems he strangely half but dawned on earth ; 

Spirit and Mind he hath in store, 

But nothing firm, no sure material core. 



FAUST. 



1 



As yet he can but through this glass subsist 5 
But he would bodily himself exist. 

PROTEUS. 

A mis-created son, I fear ! 

For ere he should be, is he here. 

thales (aside.) 

Besides, his whole position seems most critical ; 
He is, as I conceive, hermaphroditical. 

PROTEUS. 

Then have we far the better cause to hope ; 
Soon shall he find for life and being scope. 
But come — no long delays ! Our goal we'll win, 
First in the main must thou thy course begin ! 
'Tis there that tiny beings feel at ease, 
Swallowing yet tinier forms by heaven's direction ; 
Thus do they wax by slow degrees, 
And form themselves for self-perfection. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

What gentle zephyrs here are wreathing ! — 
More freshly I respire, their odours breathing ! 

PROTEUS. 

Well said, my charming little fellow ! 

And further on the airs yet kinder grow, 

There on the narrow strait of pebbles yellow, 

Still more delightful breezes blow. 

There, too, we well shall mark the bright Procession 

That's passing now in quick succession. 

Come — on with me ! 

THALES. 

With ye I wander. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Threefold three Spirits bright meander ! 



150 



FAUST. 



SCENE VII. 

Another part of the Sea-shore. Narrow strip of land; 
beyond it the Egean Ocean beaming to the horizon. 
Moon still in her zenith. 

TELCHINES OF RHODES, 

(passing on the sea, on hippocamps and ocean-monsters, 
bearing Neptune's trident.) 

The trident of Neptune we forged it in gladness, 
Wild tempests it calms in their angriest madness. 
When Jove sends black clouds the bright ocean to cover. 
Great Neptune glides quickly the green billows over. 
And when each red lightning flash darts from the skies, 
He speaks, and the wild waves to quench it arise ; 
And all who betwixt them their bold track have followed, 
Long tost, are at last by the ocean deep swallowed ; 
His sceptre to us he hath given to-night, — 
Thus roam we in gladness all peaceful and bright. 

SIRENS. 

Ye who serve the God of Day, 
Who to Helios homage pay, 
Ye we hail in this kind hour, 
When sweet Luna rules in power. 

TELCHINES. 

Thou Goddess most lovely, now beaming above ! 
The praise of thy brother thou nearest with love. 
Thou gazest on Rhodus the blest, from thy skies, 
Whence Songs of rejoicing to Phoebus arise. 
When at morning he soars, or sets proudly at night, 
He gazes on us with bright beams of delight. 



FAUST. 



151 



The mountains, the cities, waves, meadows, and air, 
In all doth he joy him, and all are most fair. 
No vapours surround us, and should such appear, 
One beam and one breeze — and the Island is clear ! 
There oft doth the Great One his image behold, 
Now as Youth, now as Giant, now gentle, now bold. 
Of nations of earth, know it first was our aim, 
To mould Gods in human forms, worthy their fame. 

PROTEUS. 

Well, let them sing, and boast, and prate ! 

Dead works are theme for scorn or hate, 

To the bright Day-God's sacred beams. 

They form, and melt, and work away, 

And when to brass they've changed their clay, 

They deem those forms are more than dreams. 

What comes of these grand Idols, pray ? 

They soar in air like poplars tall, — 

An earthquake groans, and down they fall ; 

Long have they passed from earth away. 

Earth and its deeds, howe'er they bubble, 
Prove all at last mere toil and trouble. 
Life thrives far better on the ocean ; 

(To Homunculus.) 

Thee, bears amidst its wild commotion, 
Proteus the Dolphin. 

(He transforms himself.) 

Lo ! 'tis done ! 
Now on my back I'll gently bear thee, 
Fear naught ! the wildest waves shall spare thee ; 
Wed thou the ocean, Learning's Son ! 

T HALES (to HOMUNCULUS.) 

Yes ! seek with just desire formation, 
On ocean recommence creation ! 

o 



152 



FAUST. 



For active deeds thyself prepare ! 
From scale to scale of being ranging, 
A thousand times thy aspect changing, 
At last the form of man thou'lt bear. 

(Homunculus mounts the Proteus Dolphin 

PROTEUS. 

Glide thou with me 'mid billows foaming. 
There shalt thou live for ever, roaming 
Or north, or south, or east, or west ; 
Strive not to pass Creation's portal : 
For shouldst thou once become a Mortal, 
Then hast thou lost joy, peace, and rest. 

THALES. 

That's as it may be ; 'tis not despicable, 
To be a Mortal, firm, and strong, and able. 

PROTEUS (to THALES.) 

Ay, such as thou, profound and cool, 

Thou'rt an exception to the rule, 

And passest not like other men away ; 

'Mid spirits now I've marked thee many a day. 

sirens (on the rocks.) 

What a ring of clouds is beaming, 
In bright circles round the moon ! 
Doves, with joy and passion gleaming, 
There are winging, beauty's boon. 
Lo ! to love and bliss to move us, 
Paphos' Queen hath sent them all ; 
Peace and Gladness reign above us, 
Joyous is our Festival ! 

nereus (steppirig to thales. 

Nightly wanderers here beneath, 
Call yon ring a vapour airy, 



FAUST. 



But we spirits know the wreath, 
And but smile at such vagary. 
Doves have formed it, doves who follow 
O'er the waves my daughter fair, 
Gently winging through the air 
Over earth, sea, mount, and hollow. 

THALES. 

That I gladly would believe, 
Which to worthy men gives pleasure ; 
If thy heart doth this conceive, 
Ne'er would I molest thy treasure. 

PSYLLI AND MARSI, 

(On sea-bulls, sea-calves, and rams.) 

In Cyprus caverns' dark recesses, 

Where Neptune's billows joy not. 

Where Seismos may destroy not, 

Still fanned by the zephyr's caresses, 

And joyous and gladsome for ever 

'Mid breezes that slumber never, 

To shield Cypris' car we endeavour. 

But when night beams so brightly, yet sadly, 

Where green waves are joying all madly, 

By mortals unseen, do we gladly 

The Fair one guide over the deep. 

Naught fear we, thus actively gliding, 

Winged lion, or eagle, through ether riding, 

Or Crescent, or Cross, 

Or whatever powers, in these fickle hours, 

In changing gain or loss, 

Claim veneration, ask adoration, 

Or receive weak mortals' loud acclamation. 

At them we smile not, nor weep, 

But still the Fair one guide over the deep. 



FAUST. 



SIRENS. 

Lo 1 around the magic car 

Endless circles ever forming, 

Haste ye wildly from afar ! 

Nereids gaily hither storming, 

Active maidens, wild, yet fair, 

And Dorides, ye more tender, 

Hither Galatea bear, 

Waft that Goddess bright and slender ! 

On your brows a ray severe 

Of immortal light is playing, 

Yet your smiles to all are straying, 

Ye are fair and bright as dear. 

DORIDES, 

(In chorus, gliding by Nereus, all on dolphi 

Luna, we thy beams require ; 
On these youths cast rays below ! 
For our consorts to our sire, 
We with soft petitions shew ; 

{To Nereus.) 
Boys are they whom we have saved 
From the tempest's wild commotion ; 
When the billows fiercely raged, 
Bore we them to halls of ocean. 
Now with kisses sweet and gay, 
They our kindness must repay; 
On them gaze with kind emotion ! 

NEREUS. 

Well may ye value such a double gain 
Mercy to shew, and Rapture to attain 

DORIDES. 

Father, likest thou our endeavour ? 
Oh, then grant us this bright treasure 



FAUST 



155 



Let us thus embrace them ever, 
In immortal youthful pleasure ! 

NEREUS. 

In your fair prize ye may rejoice, 
Form ye these budding youths to men ; 
That ne'er may grant my weaker voice. 
What none but Jove's can give, ye ken. 
Your own still changing element 
Makes passion set, to rise no more, 
And when your love its force hath spent, 
Then leave your lovers on the shore. 

DORIDES. 

Ye dearest boys we part with pain, 
But fate doth our ties divide ; 
Eternal love we sought to gain, 
The Gods have our prayer denied. 

THE YOUTHS. 

If still ye in graces and charms abound, 
And feed us with love so kind, 
Nothing so good have we ever found, 
And nothing better would find. 

(Galatea approaches in her pearly car.) 

NEREUS. 

'Tis thou, my beloved one ! 

GALATEA. 

Oh, father ! what joy ! 
Yet linger, sweet Dolphin ! Delights my soul buoy. 

NEREUS. 

They glide, they pass, in their speed and force, 
Like the dying beams of a glorious day ; 



156 



FAUST. 



For the father's rapture what care they ? 
Oh, could they waft me in their course ! 
Yet a single look repays 
For long anxious nights and days. 

THALES. 

Joy ! Joy ! for ever ! 

Thus would I breathe, mourning never, 

The spirit of Beauty and Truth 

All things from Water have issued in youth ! 

All things by Water are shielded in Chorus ! 

Ocean, roll on in thy beauty before us. 

If thou no clouds didst waft on high, 

No streams didst lavish gladsomely, 

Taught'st not the rivers where to hie, 

The mountain torrents ivhence to fly, 

Oh ! what were the mountains, the vales, and the earth ? 

It vvas but from thee that Creation took birth. 

CHORUS. 

(Echo of all the circles.) 
But thou art the essence of Love, Life, and Mirth ! 

NEREUS. 

Lo ! on the distant main they sail, 
No more our eyes their eyes can hail, 
In circles ever bending, 
Now closing, now extending, 
Glides on the train through night; 
But Galatea's pearly throne 
Still I see all brightly shown, 
It beams like a star 
O'er the billows. 

Loved ones gleam brightly, as glow-worms through 

willows. 
However far, 



FAUST. 



157 



It beams in golden light 
Still clear and bright. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

'Mid these soft billows playing, 
Where'er my beams are straying, 
All bright and fair I see. 

PROTEUS. 

'Mid life's soft billows playing, 
Gleams o'er thy glass are straying, 
That brightly beam on thee. 

NEREUS. 

What mystery now, 'mid the bright ocean-train, 
Wakes me and all beings to wonder again ? 
Around Galatea what bright flame is dancing? 
Now glowing with lurid fire, now softly glancing, 
As if by the impulse of wild Passion fired. 

THALES. 

Homunculus 'tis, by friend Proteus inspired — 

In eager desire for her love doth he languish ; 

Ye Gods ! may this wondrous deed lead not to anguish ! 

It beams round her throne, Who the issue can tell ? 

It flames — lo ! it lightens ! — it bursts from its shell ! 

SIRENS. 

What miracle wondrous illumines the billows, 
Now sinking, now swelling, like Passion's soft pillows ? 
Lo ! ocean is foaming in exquisite light, 
All forms glow in beauty 'mid darkness and night ! 
Fire sweeps with the zephyrs, fire rolls with the waves- 
Rule, Eros — proud Eros, reign over thy slaves ! 

Hail thou Ocean ! — hail ye W T aters ! 
Where strange fire woos Ocean's daughters ; 



158 



FAUST. 



Hail ye Billows ! Hail thou Fire ! 
Hail adventure strange and dire ! 



ALL IN ALL. 

Hail ye Breezes swift and kind ! 
Hail ye Vaults where sleeps the wind ! 
All in all, before ye bow, 
Elements, we hail ye now ! 



END OF ACT II. 



ACT THE THIRD. 



CHARACTERS INTRODUCED. 
FAUST. 

PHORCYAS (MEPHISTOPHELES). 

HELEN. 

PANTHALIS. 

EUPHORION. 

LYNCEUS. 

CHORUS OF TROJAN MAIDENS. 



P 



Note. — Time and space in this Act exist no more. 
Faust has reversed the laws of nature. He has deli- 
vered Helen from Orcus, and now meets her in a world 
of visions. The metres of the original have been closely 
followed. 



ACT THE THIRD. 



SCENE I. 

Before the Palace of Menelaus at Sparta. 

(Helen enters with the Chorus of captive Trojan women. 
Panthalis, leader of the Chorus. ) 

HELEN. 

The much admired and much condemned one, Helen, I 
From yonder shore have come, where erst we landed all, 
Still half inebriate with the wild and giddy tide 
Of ocean, that from Phrygian plains, on curving back 
Hath borne us with Poseidon's aid and Euros' power 
To this my native country's welcome bays again. 
There on the strand below the monarch Menelas 
Joys with his valiant warriors in his safe return. 
But thou, O lofty mansion, greet me kindly now, 
Thou, that my father Tyndar, near the steep decline 
Of Pallas' temple, home returning, caused to rise ; 
And thou, that when with youthful Clytemnestra, I, 
With Castor and with Pollux gaily sporting grew, 
Wast of all Sparta's mansions most adorned and bright. 

p 2 



162 



FAUST. 



Ye brazen gates, O let me greet ye joyously ! 
When ye, in hospitable mirth, were cast aside, 
The chief from many chosen Menelaus first 
Beamed through ye, as a bridegroom, on my maiden eyes. 
O now unclose again, that I the King's command 
With haste, and with a consort's truth, may execute. 
Let me but enter ! and behind me then remain 
All storms of fate which hitherto my soul assailed. 
For since in careless mood I hence unthinking strayed 
Cythera's temple seeking, urged by duty's call, 
And there, alas ! a robber seized me, — he of Troy, 
Full much has past, that mortals near and far delight 
To tell and told to be, but which with saddened care 
That being hears, of whom discourse those legends wild. 

CHORUS. 

Despise not thou, O of women most fair, 
That noblest treasure on thee bestowed ! 
For the highest joy, it is given to thee : 
Thy Beauty's fame which all beings outvies. 
The hero's name may herald his course, 
Thence steps he in pride ; 
But all — yes, all — most restless and proud, 
At the feet of conquering Beauty shall lie. 

HELEN. 

Enough ! I hither with my consort now have sailed ; 

And lo ! before him to his city am I sent ; 

But what his aim and purpose I in naught conceive. 

Come I as consort ? Come I as his royal bride ? 

Come I a victim for the Prince's bitter grief, 

And for the Greeks' misfortunes all too long endured ? 

Conquered I am, if prisoner ta'en I know not yet. 

For fame and fortunes shrouded for me the mighty gods 

In doubt and fear, attendants sure and ominous 

Of Beauty, that beside this very portal here 

With spells of gloomy darkness all my soul affright. 



FAUST. 



163 



For e'en within the ship my consort rarely deigned 
To gaze on me, and ne'er one word of comfort spoke, 
But sat apart alone, as if on ill intent. 
But when at last we reached the blue Eurotas' bays, 
When scarce our foremost vessels' beaks had touched the 
shore, 

He rose and spoke as if by power divine inspired : 
Here let my warriors land in form and order due, 
And here on ocean's strand will I review their train ; 
But thou proceed, and follow still the flowery banks 
Of yonder blue Eurotas onwards wandering, 
Over the dewy meads guiding the coursers wild, 
Until on that fair plain thy train and thou arrive, 
Where Lacedaemon, once a broad and fruitful field, 
By solemn mountains round environed soars in air. 
Then enter thou the high aspiring regal dome, 
And muster then the maidens which I there have left, 
With her, the old and wise, and careful stewardess. 
Let her the treasures' rich collection shew to thee 
Which there thy father left, and I myself in war 
And peace alike increasing, still together heaped. 
All shalt thou find in order due : for this is still 
The King's prerogative, that he returning home 
All things should find in wonted regularity, 
Even as he left them seeking for the foreign shore ; 
For nothing hath the vassal power or right to change. 

CHORUS. 

Rejoicing now these treasures divine 
So bright and endless, proudly survey ; 
For the golden chains, the emerald crowns 
There rest in pride, and they boast of their light ; 
But step thou in and challenge them all, 
They quickly shall arm. 
It joys me to see Beauty in her power 
Combat gold and diamonds and jewels of price. 



164 



FAUST. 



HELEN. 

Then followed from my Lord and Master this command. 
When thou hast all in order due surveyed and seen, 
Then take as many tripods as thou needful deem'st, 
And many a vessel, which the sacrificing Priest 
Requires, when he the sacred rites doth solemnize. 
The pitchers and the goblets with the open trough, 
The clearest water from the sacred fountain too 
In lofty urns, and further well-dried wood which flames, 
With fiercest speed may seize, hold thou prepared ; 
Let not an axe right keen be wanting finally ; 
But all the rest to thee and to thy care I leave. 
Thus spoke he, hast'ning my departure ; yet he naught 
That breathes the breath of life appointed, in his charge, 
A victim at the high Olympians' shrine to fall. 
Cause for suspicion this ; but I will think no more, 
And all remain entrusted to the mighty gods, 
Who that complete which in their wisdom pleases them ; 
Whether we mortals deem such fortunes good or ill, 
'Tis ours to bear whatever they as gods decree. 
Full often hath the sacrificer raised the axe, 
Poised o'er the victim's drooping neck, that shrank be- 
neath, 

And yet might not the rite complete, being stayed at last 
Or by the foe's or by some favouring god's approach. 

CHORUS. 

What the future bringeth canst thou not guess. 

Mistress, O boldly advance 

Fearing naught ! 

Evil and good appear 

Unexpected to mortals ; 

E'en foretold us, we ne'er can believe. 

Burnt not great Troja ? have we not seen 

Death around us — horrible death ? 



FAUST. 



165 



And are we not here, 
Joined to thee, serving gladly, 
Gazing on yonder sun in the heavens, 
And earth's brightest and fairest, 
Thee, our Queen of Loveliness ! 

HELEN. 

Howe'er it be, whate'er may chance, 'tis now my task 

Without delay to mount to yonder royal house, 

That long — long lost, and much desired, and half forgot, 

Before my eyes again appears, I know not how. 

Not with such glee my feet shall bear me up the steps 

As when in childish mirth I leapt from stone to stone. 

CHORUS. 

Leave ye, O sisters ! ye 
Mournfully captured ones, 
All your sorrows behind ye ; 
Share in your mistress' joy, 
Share lovely Helen's joy, 
Who to her old ancestral hearth, 
Though with late back returning 
Still with firm active steps, 
Wendeth her proudly again. 

Praise ye the glorious, 

Haply recovering, 

And home-guiding Immortals ! 

Soars the enfranchised one, 

Not, as on wings of speed, 

O'er cares and sorrows, when in vain 

The encaptured in despair 

Over the towers of his dungeon high, 

Arms outspreading, must languish. 

But her a god upbore, 
The desired one ; 



166 



I'AUST. 



And from Ilios' dust 

Brought her hither back again 

To the ancient, the proudly beaming 

Father's house. 

After numberless 

Raptures and sorrows, 

Of her youthful days once again to remind her. 

PANTHALIS, 

(as leader of the Chorus.) 

Desert we now the loved and joyous path of Song, 
And let us on yon lofty gates our glances fix. 
What see I, sisters ? Comes not back our mistress fair, 
With wild and eager steps towards us hastening ? 
What ails thee, mighty Queen ? What dark and fearful 
sio4it 

o 

Can meet thy glances in thy old ancestral halls, 
Instead of smiles and greetings? Thou wilt naught con- 
ceal ; 

For high displeasure's flush is mantling on thy brow — 
A noble anger combating with wild surprise. 

HELEN. 

(who has left the folding gates open, much moved.) 

Jove's daughter may not yield to base and vulgar fear, 
The quickly-trembling hand of terror grasps her not ; 
But Horror, pond'rous form, that from the womb of 
Night, 

From evermore hath issued, and still multiform, 
Like glowing clouds from out a mountain's gulf of fire, 
Day's realm invades, may e'en alarm the hero's "breast. 
And thus to-day, with horror dire, the Stygians 
Have marked my entrance to yon mansion, so that I 
Would gladly from the well-known threshold, long 
desired, 

Like some departing guest, with eager speed retire. 



FAUST. 



167 



But no ! 1 hither to the light have fled, and now 
Ye shall not further drive me, Powers, whate'er ye be ! 
My sacrifice shall please the gods ; then purified, 
The fire-hearth's smiles may greet the consort like her 
Lord. 

CHORUS- LEADER. 

Disclose to us thy servants, high and noble Queen, 
To us who aid and honour thee, what now hast past. 

HELEN. 

What I have seen shall ye forthwith yourselves behold, 
If old eternal Night her creature wild and strange 
Hath not again within her womb's vast depths enclosed, 
But that ye all may know, in words the tale I tell : 
When I the foremost hall within the Royal dome, 
Bent on my duty's task, with solemn steps had crossed, 
I wondered at the desolate silence all around. 
No steps of busy wanderers met the list'ning ear, 
No signs of lively quick activity the eye, 
And not a maid appeared, nor active stewardess, 
Who else are wont with friendly smiles the guest to greet. 
But when the fire-hearth I in wondering doubt 
approached, 

There saw I, near the smouldering ashes' warm remains, 
On earth reclined, a veiled and darksome female form, 
Not like to one who slumbers, but to one who thinks. 
With words of stern command, I call her to her toil, 
Supposing her the Stewardess, whom there no doubt 
My consort's prudence had to guard the mansion placed ; 
But in her mantle shrouded sits the moveless one ; 
At last, when I persist, she stretches forth her arm, 
As if to warn me from that hearth, those halls away. 
I turn in anger from her, hasting speedily 
Towards the high steps, conducting to the Thalamos, 
And to the treasure-chamber, rich and near at hand; 
But lo ! the monster starts from earth with eager speed, 



168 



FAUST. 



My passage staying, and before the entrance stands, 
Lofty and thin, with hollow, dark, and bloodshot eyes, 
A form most strange that sight and thought alike 
confounds. 

But vainly would I speak ; for words still vainly strive 
With power creative dense material forms to build. 
There — there behold her ! — Lo ! she ventures to the 
light I 

Here we are rulers till our Lord and Monarch comes. 
The fearful creatures of the night, high Phoebus, friend 
Of beauty, drives to caverns or by power enchains. 

phorcyas appears on the threshold betwixt, the gate-posts, 

CHORUS. 

Much have I witnessed although the tresses 
Youthfully mingle this brow surrounding ; 
Terrible sights full oft have I seen them, 
Dark warring anguish, Ilios' night 
When it fell. 

Through the o'erclouded mingling in carnage 
Strife of the warriors, heard I fierce outcries 
Of the Immortals, heard angry Discord's 
Wild voice of thunder loudly resound 
'Neath the walls. 

Ah! they menaced still Ilios' 

Turrets, but wildest flames of fire 

Spread from neighbour to neighbour then, 

Hither, thither, still round and round, 

Like a tempest fierce and swift 

Over the vast city speeding. 

Flying saw I, through smoke and fire, 
Through the terrible conflagration, 
Raging, furious gods approach, 
Speeding wildly in darkness, 
Haught and vast, mid gloomiest 
Mists, dense, terrible, fire-streaked. 



FAUST. 



See I, or hath phantasy 

Formed in my sad woe-begone soul, 

Such a nonentity ? Name it ne'er 

Can my tongue ; but that I this 

Horrible sight with eyes behold — 

This I know and doubt not; 

Might with my hands the monster grasp 

Warned not not from such an enterprise, 

Fear and horror that rack me. 

Say, which of Phorcy s' 

Daughters then art thou ? 

For thou resemblest most 

That race of monsters. 

Art thou perchance of those most hideous 

Sisters, sharing between the three, 

But one eye, one tooth as well ? 

Art thou one of the Graise ? 

Darest thou, monster, 

Thus near bright beauty, 

Phoebus' keen eyes before 

Boldly to shew thee ? 

But step forward, our words unheeding, 

For the hideous sees he not, 

As his holiest eyes have ne'er 

Gazed on shadows of darkness. 

But our mortal eyes forceth, alas! 

Cruel, mournfullest destiny, 

Almost unspeakable pain to bear, 

Which this most horrible, dark and detestable 

Sight, in all lovers of beauty awakes. 

Hear, oh ! hear us then, if thou, wretch, 
Dar'st to encounter us, curses hear — 
Hear all passionate cries and threats 
From the most furious lips of the happy ones 
Who by gods were fashioned and made. 



170 



FAUST. 



PHORCYAS. 

Old is the proverb, yet for ever sure and true, 
That Modesty and Beauty never, hand in hand, 
Their course may follow over earth's green flowery paths. 
For deeply rooted rests in both old mutual hate, 
So that whene'er, and on whatever plain or height, 
They meet, each quickly turns her back upon her foe. 
Then hastens each with wilder speed upon her course, 
Poor Modesty in sorrow, Beauty bold and impudent, 
Until at last by Orcus' hollow night received, 
If age hath not before already fettered her. 
Ye now 1 find, ye shameless ones, from foreign shores 
With arrogance approaching, like a swarm of cranes, 
Dense, wild, and loudly croaking, that our heads above 
In one thick cloud through ether flies, and strives by loud 
And noisy shouts to fix the silent wanderer's gaze 
Upon their train; but they their course must still pursue, 
His own he follows ; thus with us it now shall be. 

Who are ye, then, that thus the Monarch's palace high 
With wild Manadian cries of rage ye dare assail ? 
What are ye, say, that ye the mansion's stewardess 
With shouts upbraid, like angry curs that bay the moon ? 
Think ye 3 I know not well, of what dire race ye are ? 
Thou, sprung from carnage, nursed 'mid battles, faithless 
brood ! 

Licentious youthful train, seducing and seduced ! 
Alike the warrior and the burgher weakening. 
Ye seem a vast and active swarm of locusts dire 
Concealing neath their hosts the blooming fields around, 
Devourers ye of others labour ! Never tired 
Destroyers of the stores by toil and zeal amassed ! 
Encaptured, sold and purchased, idlest wares of vice ! 

HELEN. 

He who before the mistress would the servants chide, 
Doth boldly right usurp which not to him pertains, 



FAUST. 



171 



For she alone hath power to praise what worthy seems 
Of praise, and so alike to censure what is ill. 
Know then that I am well contented with the aid 
Which these afforded me, when mighty Uios' walls, 
By foes surrounded, stood and fell ; and so no less 
When we the changeful hardships of our wanderings 
Endured, though then right often self is all in all. 
Here too I equal care await from all their train ; 
Not what the servant is, but how he acts, the lord 
Inquires. Be silent then and frown not on them thus ! 
If thou till now the monarch's house hast guarded well 
In its due mistress' place, thy glory this shall be ; 
But she herself approaches now; then thou retire, 
That punishment instead of praise may not be thine. 

PHORCYAS. 

Companions of the house to menace is the great 
Prerogative, of her, the heaven doved Monarch's wife, 
Who by long years' directions wise that right hath earned. 
As thou, by all acknowledged one, once more resum'st 
Thy ancient place as royal mistress of the house, 
Seize thou the long-neglected reins, and rule with power, 
Take thou the treasures to thy care, and us with them. 
But first of all protect thou me, thy eldest slave, 
From yonder train, which near thy beauty's pearly swan 
But badly feathered loudly quacking geese appear. 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 

How hideous close to beauty seems vile ugliness. 

PHORCYAS. 

How foolish by the side of wisdom folly looks. 

(In the following repartees, the Choretides answer stepping 
one by one from amongst the Chorus.) 

CHORETIDE I. 

Of Father Erebus tell us, tell us of Mother Night. 



172 FAUST. 

PHORCYAS. 

Speak thou of Scylla first the daughter of thy sire. 

CHORETIDE II. 

Dire monsters number'st thou as thy progenitors. 

PHORCYAS. 

Away to Orcus ! there thy friends and kindred seek. 

CHORETIDE III. 

The dwellers there are all too young and fair for thee. 

PHORCYAS. 

Tiresias, the ancient, woo to lust and love. 

CHORETIDE IV. 

Orion's nurse was thy first hideous Ancestress. 

PHORCYAS. 

Harpies I ween fed thee in endless filth and night. 

CHORETIDE V. 

With what dost nourish thy detested spectral frame ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Not with that blood for which thou all too eager art. 

CHORETIDE VI. 

Thou long'st for corses, thou a hideous corse thyself! 

PHORCYAS. 

The vampire teeth are gleaming in thy cursed mouth. 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 

Thine shall I close, when who and what thou art, I say. 

PHORCYAS. 

First name thyself, and then the enigma is revealed. 



FAUST. 



173 



HELEN. 

Not chiding, grieving I betwixt ye quickly step, 
Forbidding this keen strife of fixed and mutual hate ! 
For naught more evil to the ruling lord can chance 
Than such fierce quarrels 'midst his faithful vassal train. 
The echo of his order then no more returns 
In active deeds performed, again his ear to greet; 
No, self-willed, heedless, all it wildly speeds around, 
Whilst he, himself bewildered, cries and chides in vain. 
Nor this alone. — Ye now in wild and thoughtless rage, 
The forms of spectres dark and dire have hither called 
Which so surround me, that I feel myself half torn 
To Orcus, this my native country's soil despite. 
Is this remembrance ? Was't a dream that scared my 
soul ? 

Was I all this ? Or am I ? Shall I ever be 
A spectral vision, I, the cause and spoil of strife ? 
The maidens shudder ; thou alone, the eldest here, 
Thou stand'st unmoved. Oh, speak, and let me know 
the truth ! 

PHORCYAS. 

He, who remembers well, long years of joy, at last, 
Will think the highest favour of the gods a dream. 
Thou, greatly favoured one, beyond all bounds of bliss, 
In all thy life adorers hast around thee seen 
Inflamed by love to wildest deeds of enterprise. 
Theseus already siezed thee, full of eager fire, 
He, strong as Hercules, of vast yet beauteous form. 

HELEN. 

He bore me far away, when I ten summers told, 
And hid me in Aphidnus' fort in Attica. 

PHORCYAS, 

By Castor and by Pollux soon delivered thence, 
Thou stood 'st surrounded by a valiant hero-train. 



174 



FAUST. 



HELEN. 

But secret favour, most of all, I now confess, 
Patroclus gained, the brave Pel ides' image, he. 

PHORCYAS. 

Yet thy stern father's will bound thee to Menelas, 
The active ocean rover, ruler too on earth. 

HELEN. 

The daughter gave he, gave the conduct of the realm. 
From nuptial union sprang the fair Hermione. 

PHORCYAS. 

But when thy Lord for Crete his heirdom warred afar, 
To thee in solitude appeared too fair a guest. 

HELEN. 

Why dost thou mind me of that long half widowhood, 
And what dark endless evils thence for me arose ? 

PHORCYAS. 

The King's excursion too was cause, that I, in Crete 
A free-born woman, hither came to slavery. 

HELEN. 

As active stewardess forthwith he placed thee here, 
Confiding much, his home and treasures, to thy care. 

PHORCYAS. 

That home which thou desertedst, Troy's high-castled 
towers, 

And boundless joys of love and loving bliss to seek. 

HELEN. 

Speak not of joy ! for all too bitter Sorrow's pangs 
My soul and being racked in anguish ne'er to end. 



FAUST. 



175 



PHORCYAS. 

'Tis said that thou at once in twofold form appear'dst, 
In Pergamus by all beheld, in Egypt too. 

HELEN. 

Confound not more my weak already wavering mind. 
E'en now I know not which or where, in truth, I am. 

PHORCYAS. 

And further say they, from the hollow spirit's realm 

In eager passion did Achilles rise to thee ! 

Thee having loved before, all fate's decrees despite. 

HELEN. 

I, as a shade, to him the shade, did bind myself. 
It was a dream, the words already tell thee this. 
I fade in air, and of myself become the shade. 

(Si?iks in the arms of the Semi-chorus.) 

CHORUS. 

Speak not ! breathe not ! 

Thou horrible, thou terrible form ! 

Close thy lips of guile, pestiferous ! 

What but woe and evil 

Can from so dread a gulf arise? 

For the malignant one beneficent seeming, 
Wolf's rage under the lamb's snowy fleece, 
I deem him more horrible than the three- 
Headed Cerberus howling. 

Fearful, trembling, stand we here. 
When ? how ? where ? breaks on us all 
Such a cunning's 

Deep in wait lying blast of death ? 

Now too, instead of with accents of comfort, 
Softly murmuring, like Lethe to breathe, 
Q 



176 



FAUST. 



Wakest thou from regions of vanished time 
Miseries, and not pleasures, 
And o'ershadow'st even thus 
With the light of present days 
Also the future's 

Gently dawning fair beams of hope. 

Speak not, breathe not ! 

That our mistress's spirit, 

Now for departure prepared, 

Yet may linger, may cleave to 

This fair form, of forms the fairest, 

Which by bright Phoebus ever were seen. 

{Helen has recovered, and stands again in the centre of Iter 
maidens.) 

PHORCYAS. 

Step from dark but passing vapours, sun of this most 

beauteous day ; 
Thou who veiled already charm'dst us, now in dazzling 

glory reign. 

As the world before thee beameth, so dost thou to us ap- 
pear. 

Hideous let them loudly call me ; well I know the Beau- 
tiful. 

HELEN. 

Trembling from the shades of darkness, that around me 
cowered I pass, 

And I now would gladly rest me, for my limbs are wea- 
ried sore, 

But the Queen's appointed duty — nay, all mortals' duty 
too, 

Is to meet with manly courage, things however strange 
and dire. 



FAUST. 



177 



PHORCYAS. 

Now thou standest in thy greatness, in thy charms before 
our train, 

Tell thy eyes that thou commandest ; what command'st 
thou ? Speak, we pray. 

HELEN. 

For the long delays occasioned by your conflicts to 
atone, 

Haste and deck the sacred altar, execute the Monarch's 
will. 

PHORCYAS. 

All things lie within the palace, goblet, tripod, weighty 
axe, 

Sprinkling vessels, perfume censors ; name the victim for 
the shrine. 

HELEN. 

That appointed not the Monarch. 

PHORCYAS. 

Not decreed ? O word of woe ! 

HELEN. 

What new cause for fear assails thee ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Thou art meant, O Queen, but thou ! 

HELEN. 

I? 

PHORCYAS. 

And these ones. 

CHORUS. 

Woe and anguish ! 

PHORCYAS. 

'Neath the axe 'tis thine to fall ! 
22 



178 



FAUST. 



HELEN. 

Fearful,—- Gods ! — Yet half suspected ! 

PHORCYAS. 

Such alone thy fate can be, 

CHORUS. 

Woe ! And us ? What will betide us ? 

PHORCYAS. 

She shall die a noble death ; 
But upon the beam so lofty, which the roof's firm gable 
bears, 

Like to sparrows caught in summer, one by one, ye all 
shall hang. 

HELEN AND CHORUS 

stand astounded and terrified, in a singular and highly 
effective group, 

PHORCYAS. 

Ye spectres ! . . . Like to frozen statues, stand ye there, 
Afraid to part from day, which not to ye pertains. 
Thus mortals, who, like ye, are fading spectres all, 
Like ye not gladly part from glorious beams of day ; 
Yet naught, or prayers or spells, can save them from 
their end ; 

This all men know, but few can bear to think upon. 
Enough* ye all are lost ! — and now to work will I. 

(Claps her hands ; whereupon there appear at the gateway, 
shrouded dwarfish forms, which immediately carry into 
execution the following commands:) 

Approach, ye gloomy, round and oval forms of night! 
Roll hither quickly; here is mischief now to do. 
Lo! for the altar brightly beaming, place prepare; 
The axe upon it, grimly smiling, then recline; 



FAUST. 



179 



The water-pitchers fill ye — they required will be 
To wash away the dark and hideous stains of gore. 
The costly carpet spread amid the dust below, 
That so the sacrifice in royal state may kneel, 
And then the lifeless frame, within its folds confined, 
Though from the head disjoined, interred may fitly be* 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 

The Queen in meditation lost, is standing now, 
The maidens round her lie, like flowers in spring that 
fade ; 

But now to me, the eldest, seems it fit and right, 
Some parlance brief with thee, still older form to hold. 
Thou art experienced, wise, and seem'st our friend in 
truth, 

Although with senseless folly thee yon train assailed. 
Say, therefore, if no means of aid for all remain. 

PHORCYAS. 

'Tis lightly said ; on her, your mistress, it depends 
That she be saved or lost, and ye her train with her. 
Determination now is needful, and without delay. 

CHORUS. 

Most revered of all the Parcse, wisest one of Sibyls thou, 
Open hold the golden scissors, then announce us hope 
of aid ! 

For we feel already hanging, waving, swinging, hither, 
thither, 

All the little limbs that rather in the graceful dance 

would mingle, 
And the loved one then embrace. 

HELEN. 

Let these ones tremble ! Pain I feel, but never fear; 
Yet know'st thou means of aid, my heartfelt thanks 
receive. 



180 



FAUST. 



Oh ! to the wise far-seeing one, full oft appears 
The impossible as possible. Then quickly speak ! 

CHORUS. 

Speak, and tell us, tell us truly, how escape we from the 
fearful 

Odious loops, that rough and weighty, like detested 
falsest jewels, 

Round our necks would press and twine them ? We 

already feel in fancy 
All the anguish that awaits us, if thou Rhea, of Immortals, 

Sacred Mother, shew'st not grace. 

PHORCYAS. 

Say ! have ye patience, all the long and tiresome tale 
To hear in silence ? Much that's strange have I to tell. 

CHORUS. 

Enough of patience. — Whilst we list, at least we live. 

PHORCYAS. 

He who at home remaining vasty treasures guards, 
Who still in strength maintains his lofty mansion's walls 
And guards from rain's access the high o'erarching roof, 
He ever days of joy shall pass and happiness : 
But he who carelessly with wild and impious speed 
Across his mansion's sacred threshold dares to haste, 
Returning home may find his mansion as of yore, 
But all around it changed, or swept from earth away. 

HELEN. 

Why now repeat such old and well-known proverbs here? 
Thy story tell ! Of ills long past remind us not. 

PHORCYAS. 

The fact alone I urged and meant not to reproach. 
O'er ocean pirating sailed Monarch Menelas ; 



FAUST. 



181 



Each coast and island he assailed with warlike arms, 
With booty then returning such as lurks within. 
For ten long years he lay before proud Pergamus, 
How many more, he strayed returning, know I not. 
But lo! what passes here at home round Tyndareos 
High royal house ? what passes in the realm forlorn ? 

HELEN. 

Hath chiding, then, so much a part of thee become, 
That thou, without reproach thy lips canst never move 1 

PHORCYAS. 

Full many years deserted stood the mountain high 
That on the north of Sparta rises towards the skies, 
Taygetos behind it, where as gladsome brook 
Eurotas downwards rolls, and, spreading through the vale, 
'Neath yonder reeds expands where swim your swans at 
play. 

There, there within the mountains, hath a hardy race 

An inaccessible lofty castle reared on high, 

From which they all around attack as best they please. 

HELEN. 

What ! could they this achieve ? Impossible it seems ! 

PHORCYAS. 

Sufficient time they had ; full twenty years I ween. 

ELEN. 

Is one their lord ? Are many robbers thus allied ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Robbers they are not, but one lord and chief have they. 
I blame him not although he me hath visited. 
AH he might take, but he has aye contented been 
With some few "presents tribute he will call them not. 

HELEN. 

How looks he ? 



182 



FAUST* 



PHORCYAS. 

Well, right well ! In truth he pleaseth me. 
He is a lively, confident, and handsome man ; 
Few of our Greeks I ween are sensible as he. 
We call the race barbarians, but not one of them 
Hath shewn such fierceness, as our warriors Troy before, 
Where many a hero instincts cannibal displayed. 
Their leader I esteem ; in him I gladly trust. 
And then his castle — that should ye yourselves behold ! 
In naught resembles it the rough and clumsy heaps 
Of stone and earth, which carelessly your fathers raised, 
Like Cyclops, in Cyclopian fashion, one huge rock 
On rocks beneath it casting ; in the stranger's house 
All things are straight, and level, and most regular. 
But from without behold it I towards the skies it soars 
In perpendicular rigid lines, yet smooth as steel ; 
Those walls to climb — the very thought must downwards 
glide. 

And there within are lofty regal halls and courts, 

By every ornament of art and skill adorned. 

There shall ye mark high pillars, columns, arches broad, 

And balconies, and endless galleries with arcades, 

And 'scutcheons. 

CHORUS. 

What are 'scutcheons ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Ajax, as ye know, 
Bore snakes entwining on his shield. Remember, too, 
The Seven who once against high Thebes waged fiercest 
war ! 

Each of those warriors bore some emblem on his buckler 
traced : 

There, might be seen the moon and stars in midnight 
skies, 



FAUST. 



183 



There Gods and mortal heroes, swords, and torches too, 
With all things that to cities terrible may prove. 
Even such like emblems bear our stranger heroes' train, 
From their ancestral sires derived in pomp and power. 
There mark ye lions, eagles, claws and beaks as well, 
Then horns of buffaloes, wings, roses, peacocks' tails, 
Stripes also, gold, and black, and silver, blue, and red. 
Shields with such pictures hang in almost endless rows, 
'Mid boundless halls that seem nor end nor term to know. 
There may ye dance ! 

CHORUS. 

Oh, tell us, are there dancers there ? 

PHORCYAS. 

The best, the brightest ! Boys with bright and golden 
locks, 

That breathe of youth ; so sweetly Paris only smiled 
When he too near our beauteous Queen approached. 

HELEN. 

For aye, 

Thou speak'st of what thou shouldst not. Haste ! thy 
tale conclude. 

PHORCYAS. 

That be thy task for me ! Say thou but firmly " Yes," 
And with that castle I surround thee. 

CHORUS. 

Speak, O Queen, 

The little word, and rescue thee and us from death ! 

HELEN. 

How should I think that he, my consort Menelas, 
With furious hate can thus intend to work me ill ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Hast thou forgotten, how he thy Deiphobus, 

The slaughtered Paris' brother, in most fearful wise 



184 FAUST. 

Did maim and torture, that same hapless wretch, who 
thee, 

The widow, made his bride ; of nose and ears deprived, 
And half his limbs was he—a strange and fearful sight. 

HELEN. 

This did he to the offender ; for my sake 'twas done. 

PHORCYAS. 

For that offender's sake he now will murder thee. 

Not to be shared is beauty ; he who made it his 

Far rather would destroy if, cursing all division there. 

(Trumpets in the distance. The Chorus start in terror.) 

CHORUS. 

Hear'st thou not the horns resounding? Seest thou not 
the banners shine ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Welcome, welcome, Lord and Master ! Gladly I ac- 
count will give. 

CHORUS. 

Ay, but we ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Ye know not what will be, see her death before 
your eyes : 

There within your own shall follow ; such your hapless 
fate must prove. 

(Pause.) 

HELEN. 

I have reflected what to do, what leave undone. 
Thou art a power of evil, this I know full well, 
And fear that even good thou mayst to evil turn. 



FAUST. 



185 



But still I now will follow to yon castle high, 

And dare my fortune. What within my royal breast, 

As in a cave's recess; I hide with secrecy, 

Remain to all unknown. Now, Sibyl, lead the way ! 

CHORUS. 

Oh ! how gladly wander we hence, 

Hastily flying ; 

Death is behind, 

Near us once again 

Loftiest castles' 

Inaccessible turrets. 

O may they guard us as well 

As walls of Troja of yore, 

Which at last alone 

Were by basest cunning sapped. 

( Vapours diffuse themselves around, conceal the back-ground, 
and finally the front of the stage also.) 

Strange ! wondrous strange ! 

Sisters, gaze around ! 

Beamed not the sunbeams of day ? 

Vapours issue gliding around us 

From Eurotas* sacred stream. 

Lo ! already fade in night 

Banks of rushes all blooming and green ; 

And the free, gently proud 

Swans that over the waters 

Glide in graceful motion 

See I, alas, no more ! 

But plainly still 

Murmur hear I them-— 

Murmur low tones of despair, 

Wild, death-heralding, so 'tis said; 

Oh ! may they to us not waft 

Tidings of danger and ruin near 

In the place of aid and release ! 



186 FAUST. 

Death to us maidens, with 
Swan-like necks, and then to her 
Our swan-born mistress — 
Woe, then, woe, woe ! 

All things round us or near 
Mists and vapours conceal. 
Even ourselves we cannot see. 
What is this ? Move we now ? 
Wander we still 

Fruitlessly tripping in circles round ? 
Seest thou not ? Flies not there perchance 
Hermes before ? Beams not the golden staffj 
Claiming, commanding, our hasty return 
To the unenjoyable, aye faintly lit, 
With dark shadows, forms uncorporeal 
Overthronged, yet ever empty Hades ? 

Lo ! thick darkness now enshrouds us ; not a sunbeam 

streaks the vapours, 
Dark and grey, like dungeons gloomy. Walls before 

our eyes are rising, 
Walls before our eager glances ! Is't a court or cavern 

lonely ? 

Whether this, or that, 'tis fearful ! Sisters, ah ! behold 

us captured — - 
Captured, hopeless, as of yore ! 



FAUST. 



187 



SCENE II. 

{Inner Court of the Castle, surrounded by various fantastic 
huildings in the style of architecture of the middle ages.) 

(helen and her followers ) 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 

Hasty and foolish still, true women all are ye ! 
Sport of each passing moment, tost still to and fro 
By fortune and misfortune, neither of the twain 
Can ye with calmness bear. One ever eagerly 
The other contradicts, and each thwarts all for aye ; 
In joy and woe ye laugh and cry by turns alike. 
Now peace ! and silently await what fixed decree 
Your meditative Queen for her and you shall speak. 

HELEN. 

Where art thou, Pythonissa ? Be whate'er thy name, 
Forth issue from this lofty castle's secret vaults. 
Hast thou perchance proceeded to its Hero-lord 
My coming to announce and kind reception crave — 
Then take my thanks and lead me quickly to him now ; 
My wanderings' end I seek for, rest and peace alone. 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 

In vain, O Mistress, gazest thou on every side ; 
For vanished is the hideous form, behind us left 
Perchance in yonder vapour from which issuing 
Without a step we hither came, I know not how. 
Perchance she wanders 'mid the mazy labyrinth 
Of this strange castle from so many buildings formed, 
Its lord and master seeking, with due form to greet. 
But see, above there what a crowd already move ! 
From yonder galleries, through the distant portals vast, 



188 



FAUST. 



Attendants hither, thither, haste with eager speed. 
Most kind and glad reception this to us portends. 

CHORUS. 

Quick beats now my heart ! O gaze on yon train— 

Oh ! see with what grace, in what order supreme, 

Youths noble and bright in measure advance. 

How fair is the sight ! — Say! at whose high command 

Thus appear they so formed, and so graceful by times, 

This endless number of beautiful youths? 

What admire I the most ? All their motions of grace, 

Or the gold locks twined round their marble-white brows, 

Or their blushing cheeks, red as peaches in spring, 

And even as softly covered with down ? 

These fain would I bite, were I checked not by fear, 

For in e'en such a case, was the biter's mouth tilled — 

Tale odious and fearful ! by ashes. 

But, lo ! the fairest, 

They hither approach; 

What carry they now ? 

Steps for the throne, 

Carpets and seats, 

Curtains and tent- 
Covering veils ; 

Shading, gently shading, 

Now they hover over 

Our fair Mistress's head ; 

For she already, 

Hath invited, mounted yon throne. 
Step round her now, 
Nearer and nearer 
Range ye with pride. 

Honoured, oh ! honoured, threefold honoured, 
Such reception for ever shall be ! 

(All that is said by the Chorus follows only by degrees.) 



FAUST. 



189 



FAUST. 

( After the pages and squires, in a long procession, have de- 
scended, he appears on the summit of the steps, in the 
knightly court-dress of the middle ages, and comes down 
the steps slowly and with much dignity. ) 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS 

{regarding him attentively.) 

If the Immortals now, as they full oft have done, 
For some short time, a noble admirable form, 
Demeanour most majestic, and the charms of grace 
Have lent not to this mortal ; then shall ever he 
In all his schemes succeed if war with men he wage, 
Or with the fairest women urge the strife of love. 
He is in truth than many more deserving far, 
Whom yet I honoured and in high esteem have held. 
With slowly solemn reverential measured steps 
The Prince approaches ; towards him turn, O Mistress 
mine ! 

FAUST 

[approaching, a prisoner chained beside him). 

Instead of solemn greeting which should hail thee, 

Of reverential welcomings, — I now 

In fetters bound, the vassal hither lead. 

Who, himself heedless, made me heedless seem. 

Here kneel thou down ! to this most potent lady, 

Confession of thy odious guilt to make. 

This is, O Queen and Mistress mine, the man 

Appointed, with the eyes like lightning beams, 

From forth his tower on all around to gaze, 

And watch what here or there itself may shew, 

And from yon mountains to our castle here 

Its course may take, whether white flocks of sheep 

Or hosts of foes ; the first we guard and shelter, 

Oppose the last. This day—most strange neglect ! 



190 



FAUST. 



Thou comest, and he announces not thy coming, 
And thus the due reception is denied 
Of such a guest ! His life he impiously 
Hath forfeited, and now would lie already 
Midst blood in death; were it not left to thee 
To doom or pardon even as fit thou deemest. 

HELEN. 

Though great the power that thou on me bestow'st 

As judge and ruler, with intent to prove 

My nature as I ween, — that power I now 

Will straight employ. To hear the accused one speak 

Is the first duty of the judge. Speak thou ! 

TURRET-WATCHER, LYNCEUS. 

Let me gazing bend before thee, 

Let me die or let me live ; 
All my soul my life I give 

To this Queen of light and glory* 

Waiting for the beams of morning 

Towards the east were turned my eyes, 

When all earth with rays adorning 
Southwards 'gan the sun to rise. 

There my eyes were fixed in gladness, 

Heedless all of hill and lea, 
Longing but in eager madness 

Her, the only one, to see. 

Eyesight clear to me is granted, 

Like the Lynx's for its foe ; 
Now to see I strove and panted 

As in some dark dream of woe. 

Mists of doubt I could not banish, 

Towers and gates seemed one dull maze. 

Vapours waver, vapours vanish, 
And a goddess from them strays. 



FAUST 



191 



Eyes and breast towards her turning 

I adored that form of light, 
And her beauty, dazzling, burning, 

Caused my eyes to sink in night. 

I forgot the watchman's duty, 

And the horn my breast beside ; 
Let me perish, Queen of Beauty ! 

At thy feet I die with pride. 

HELEN. 

The evil I occasioned, not by me 
May punished be. Alas ! what fate is mine 
That I must ever men's desires awake, 
So that they then no more themselves respect 
Nor aught else good and worthy. Conquering, 
Seducing, fighting, to and fro conducting, 
Gods, Demi-gods, and Heroes — Demons too, 
Hither and thither long by turns have led me. 
Singly the earth confused, I, — doubly more, 
Now three and fourfold woes on woes I bring ; 
Send this good man away, and set him free ! 
One by the Gods deluded may not suffer. 

FAUST. 

Astounded I, O Queen, at once perceive 

The marksman sure, and here the victim struck ; 

I see the bow which forth the arrow sent, 

I mark the wounded. Arrows follow arrows 

Assailing me. On all sides, as I deem, 

The air within this castle's halls they fill. 

What am I now ? Even in one moment mak'st thou 

My truest vassals robbers, and my walls 

Thin vapours. Thus I fear my host already 

Obeys the all-victorious fair alone. 

What then remains for me, but now myself 

R 



192 



FAUST. 



And all that mine I deemed to give to thee ? 
Before thy feet permit me, loudly, freely, 
To hail thee as my Mistress, who at once, 
Appearing, crown and throne thine own hast made. 

LYNCEUS 

(ivith a chest, followed by men who carry other chests aft 
him.) 

Thou seest me, Queen, again return ! 
From thee the rich, one smile would earn ; 
Thy face he views, and there doth see 
How poor and yet how rich is he. 

What was I erst ? What am I now ? 
How shall I serve thee? Tell me how ! 
What aids me now my eyes' keen sight ? 
Before thy charms it sinks in night. 

'Twas from the east we hither came, 
The west subdued our valour's flame ; 
An endless crowd we passed along, 
None knew his neighbour 'midst the throng. 

The first man fell, the second stood, 
The third one's lance was bathed in blood ; 
And each with force and courage bold 
Hath slain and routed foes untold. 

We hastened on, we rushed away, 
Still more we conquered day by day ; 
And when this morn I orders gave, 
Another to-morrow found his grave. 

We gazed and grasped o'er mount and glade ; 
This comrade seized the fairest maid, 
Another took the heifer strong 
And all the steeds we bore along. 



FAUST. 



193 



But still I loved to search in glee 
For rarest treasures sight could see, 
And all my comrades highly prized, 
By me was laughed at and despised. 

Rich jewels still I sought around, 
With eager looks I bored the ground, 
I gazed in bags and wallets wide, 
No closet aught from me could hide. 

And heaps of gold were mine alone, 
And costlier still the diamond stone, 
With emeralds green, like some fair flower, 
For beauty's bosom fitting dower. 

The crystal pearl from ocean deep 
'Twas mine in safest ward to keep, 
And rubies bright, that dazzling flame, 
But near thy cheeks shall blush with shame. 

Lo ! all these treasures vast and dear, 
Before thy throne behold them here ! 
To thee, bright Queen, I now have brought 
The spoils of many a fight well fought. 

So many chests I hither bear, 
And yet have more for thee, most Fair. 
Speak but the word, declare thy will, 
And vaults for thee with gold I fill. 

For thou hast scarcely scaled the throne, 
When lowly bent, as suppliants shewn, 
Reason and wealth and royal power 
Proclaimed thy smiles their noblest dower, 

All this I thought was firmly mine, 
Now is it from me torn, and thine; 
I thought it earth's most costly prize, 
And now 'tis worthless in my eyes. 



194 



FAUST. 



What I possessed has ceased to be, 
'Tis worse than worthless now to me ! 
Its worth, its value, as of yore, 
With one sweet smile canst thou restore. 

FAUST. 

Remove at once yon boldly conquered treasures, 

Not blamed indeed but yet without reward. 

Already all is hers that lies within 

Our castle ; single gifts to proffer her 

Were useless. Go, and treasure heap on treasure 

In order due. In pomp unseen till now 

A gorgeous picture form ! Let yonder vaults 

Gleam like the azure heavens ; a paradise 

Of lifeless being do thou there create. 

Before her steps, with eager speed, let carpet 

O'er carpet wind its folds ; let yielding ground 

Her footsteps meet : and naught her eyes behold 

But pomp which all, save goddesses, would blind. 

lynceus. 

All the master's words seem play; 

Vassals' actions, what are they ? 

Toil is pleasure, labour gain, 

When bright beauty thus doth reign. 

All the army low doth bow, 

Every sword is blunted now, 

And before that form so bright 

E'en the sun seems void of light ; 

Whersthat face its slaves hath sought, 

All is empty — all is nought. \_Exit. 

HELEN. 

I fain would speak to thee, but hither mount, 
And seat thee at my side ! This empty place 
Its owner claims, and thus my seat secures me. 



FAUST. 



195 



FAUST. 

First kneeling, let my true devotion gain 
Thy favour, lady ; let me kiss the hand 
Which to the seat beside thee raises me. 
Receive, adopt me as co-regent of 
Thy wild and boundless realm, and hail at once 
Adorer, vassal, guardian — all in one. 

HELEN. 

Full many wonders do I see and hear. 

I list astounded, much I long to ask. 

Thus would I gladly learn from what strange cause 

The watchman's speech so strange yet kindly seemed. 

Each tone appeared to suit it to the others, 

And when one word had on the ear resounded, 

Another came with that first word to play. 

FAUST. 

If thus our people's language pleaseth thee, 
Beyond all doubt their song will charm thy soul 
At once the hearing and the mind delighting. 
Let us forthwith this novel power employ ! 
Our converse of itself will call it forth. 

HELEN. 

Say then, how is't that I so softly speak ? 

FAUST. 

Because thou feel'st : no further reason seek ! 
And when thy breast with soft desire o'erflows, 
Then gaze around, and ask — 

HELEN. 

Who with me glows. 

FAUST. 

Forwards nor backwards strays our spirit's flight, 
The Present now alone — 



196 



FAUST. 



HELEN. 

Is our delight. 

FAUST. 

Our treasure dear, our goal, our union's band. 
Say, what confirms our raptures ? 

HELEN. 

This — my hand. 

CHORUS. 

Who can blame our fairest Princess 

If she to the castle's lord 

Grants a friendly greeting. 

For confess, all of us are we 

Now but prisoners, as full often 

Since the terrible fall of Troy 

And our wild and anxious 

Labyrinthine wanderings. 

Women, versed in love's delights. 

Never dally in their choice 

Yet choose well and rightly. 

And as to swains with gold tresses, 

So too to dark-bearded fawns, they 

When most kind occasion requires, 

Yield their red lips for caresses 

Granting to either bliss alike. 

Near and nearer still do they sit, 

Half each other embracing, 

Shoulder on shoulder, lips on lips; 

Thus they now, by Amor inspired, 

Woo 'neath the throne's 

High o'erspreading canopy. 

Royal Power fears not to shew 

All its fond wishes 

In the eyes of the people. 

Why should truth by them be concealed ? 



FAUST, 



HELEN. 

I feel myself so far, and yet so near, 

And say with eager joy — here am I — here ! 



FAUST. 



I scarce can breathe, thy charms alone I see; 
This is a dream, all round hath ceased to be. 

HELEN. 

I seem a spectral form, yet fresh and new, 
With thee united, to thee, stranger, true. 

FAUST. 

Seek not the cause of this ecstatic bliss, 
Existence now is duty — think but this ! 

phorcyas (hastily entering.) 

Spell the alphabet of loving, 

Haste from joy to rapture roving, 

All the depths of passion proving, 

But not now for this is time. 

Feel ye not wild shocks resounding ? 

Hear ye not the trumpets sounding? 

Danger threats ye in your prime. 

Menelas with hosts unnumbered 

Hither marched whilst here ye slumbered ; 

Hark ! the bells of warning chime ! 

By the foes in rage unbounded 

Like Deiphobus surrounded 

Thou shalt maimed in grief repine. 

Her, the hapless Queen of Beauty, 

Shall the axe with painful duty 

Sacrifice beside the shrine. 

FAUST. 

Audacious wild disturbance ! senselessly it raves 
In danger even useless uproar I detest. 



198 



FAUST. 



The fairest messenger make dark ill's tidings dire : 
Thou, hideous one, in evil tidings joy'st alone ! 
But now at least thy toil is vain — with empty breath 
Dost thou the ether shake. Here is no danger nigh, 
And even danger but as idle threats appears . 

{Signals. Alarum from the towers, trumpets, and loarli 
music. Mighty hosts pass through the hall.) 

FAUST. 

Before thee, hosts that never waver 
Shall pass in long and martial rows ; 

But he deserves bright woman's favour 
Who how to shield and guard her knows. 

(To the Leaders, who have left their columns and aj 
proached him and Helen.) 

In silent fury foes engaging, 

Speed ye to war, to triumph forth, 

Youths of the East all fiercely raging, 
And valiant heroes of the North. 

In steel encased, by spears surrounded, 
Realm after realm, ye conquering brave ; 

Ye came — and earth with terror bounded — 
Y T e pass'd — and thunder's echoes gave. 

At Pylos first we left the ocean, 

And ancient Nestor breathes no more ! 

All, who in fierce and wild commotion, 
To stay us strove, fell, bathed in gore. 

Drive from firm land to barren water, 

To ocean, Menelas again ! 
There let him wander, plunder, slaughter, 

There let him seek the pirates' gain. 



FAUST. 



199 



As potent lords and dukes to hail ye, 
Commands me Sparta's lovely queen. 
Defeat all foes that dare assail ye, 
For her be trusty, brave, and keen ! 

Fair Corinth o'er the ocean gazing, 
Be't thine, thou German race, to guard ; 
Achaia's crags their summits raising, 
Be trusted, Goth, to thy sure ward. 

To Elis let the Franks betake them, 
Messina be the Saxons' due ! 
The Normans ocean's lords shall make them, 
And Argolis create anew. 

Thus shall each chief his forces ranging, 
His foes defeat with valour cool; 
Whilst Sparta still unchanged, unchanging, 
The Queen's domain, o'er all holds rule. 

Then shall she see ye reign around her, 
Each happy in his own proud sphere ; 
Her ye shall find, what all have found her, 
Your shield, and light, and refuge here. 

{Faust descends from his throne ; the Princes form a circle 
round him, to receive his more specific orders and 
directions.) 

CHORUS OF MAIDENS. 

He who beauty as prize would claim, 
Yet, ere he strive to win her, 
Arms for the conflict should seek with care ; 
Though he oft by flattery's wiles 
Gains earth's brightest and fairest, 
Never in peace his prize he guards ; 
Wily courtiers still woo her away, 
s 



FAUST. 



Daring robbers still bear her afar, 

These must he look for, meet, and subdue. 

Therefore I our Prince must praise, 

And o'er all will exalt him, 

For that he wisdom with strength combines, 

So that thousands before him stand 

All his orders awaiting. 

Quickly acting as he commands, 

Each man his own advantage finds, 

And the praise of his monarch secures ; 

Vassal and master thus glory obtain. 

For who shall tear her away 

From the mighty Possessor ? 

He hath gained her, and his shall she be ; 

Gladly will we hail him her Lord, 

All we, whom w T ith her he hath guarded so surely, 

Here by high walls, and by hosts without. 

FAUST. 

Your homage, chiefs, alone requiring, 
O'er mighty lands we bade ye reign : 
Haste to your realms wild zeal inspiring ! 
We in your centre still remain. 

Now, glorious Greece! shall hosts delighted, 

'Gainst every foe thy vales defend, 

Thou, all but island, by thy straits united 

To those high cliffs where Europe's mountains end. 

This land, of all earth's gems the rarest, 

Be still the seat of joy and mirth ! 

Here rule'st thou, Queen, my best, my fairest — 

And here thou first didst dawn on earth. 



FAUST 



Where, 'mid Eurotas' reeds entwining, 
Thou beaming sprangst the light to hail, 
Thy wondrous beauty, dazzling, shining, 
Made all around seem cold and pale. 

Lo ! this bright land towards thee turning, 
Its treasures hoards for thee alone ; 
Erect, all earth's loud homage spurning, 
Here, in thy fatherland, thy throne ! 

And though on high upon its craggy mountains, 
The sun may shine with cold and wintry light, 
Still o'er green rocks gush soft and crystal fountains, 
The young wild goat still climbs the lofty height. 

Here springs the source, there flow the brooks combinin 
And lo ! cliffs, vales, and meadows, all are green ; 
On hills o'er hills in gentle slopes inclining, 
The vast and woolly flocks are wandering seen. 

Behold ! with what wise care, in what slow measure, 
The cattle edge abysses dark and steep : 
The mountains many a place of refuge treasure, 
Where 'neath o'erarching cliffs they then may sleep. 

Pan guards them too, and sylvan nymphs retiring, 
There dwell within the forest heights in peace ; 
Whilst trees on trees, as if to heaven aspiring, 
Like waves of ocean, ne'er their murm'rings cease. 

Vast ancient forests ! there the oak extendeth 
His mighty branches o'er his subjects round ; 
There, too, the plane-tree to the skies ascendeth, 
In graceful form, green foliage round it wound. 

Forth from its bark the grateful milk is flowing, 
For child and lamb alike a precious prize ; 
Fruit on the sunny boughs around is glowing, 
And in the hollowed trunk sweet honey lies. 

s 2 



202 



FAUST. 



In such a land seems joy immortal, 
And smiles o ? er every feature play ; 
So blest a clime must be Olympus' portal^ 
There pleasure laughs at dull decay. 

There, too, beneath so kind, so bright a heaven 
The beauteous child a hero grows ; 
If gods, or men — such grace to them is given — 
This happy race may be, none surely knows. 

Glorious as they, appeared the great Apollo, 
When he on earth a shepherd strayed ; 
For all things laws of high perfection follow, 
Where Nature free o'er earth hath swayed. 

(Seating himself beside Helen.) 

Thus henceforth joy will we, all sorrow spurnin 
For us the changeful past exists no more ; 
Feel thou the fire divine within thee burning, 
And hail again the golden age of yore ! 

No lofty castle shall surround thee ! 
In beauteous youth that never flies, 
For us, even here where now I found thee, 
In glorious Sparta bright Arcadia lies. 

There, where spring endless joys discloses, 
Cling to my loving arms, and whisper this : 
Our thrones be bowers, our sceptres roses, 
Our empire wild Arcadian bliss ! 



FAUST, 



6 203 



SCENE II. 

The scene changes suddenly. Lofty cliffs surround the 
stage, with the mouths of deep caverns here and there 
visible, but overarched by summer bowers. Shady 
groves run to the very bottom of the rugged cliffs. 
Faust and Helen are not seen. The chorus of 
Helen's maidens is grouped around, sleeping in 
various directions. 

PHORCYAS. 

How long the maidens here have slumbered know I not, 
Or if in dreams they saw what I most vividly 
With these keen eyes, 'neath daylight's beams, have erst 
beheld. 

Wake them I will though. Wonder shall the youthful 
race ; 

And ye, too, bearded ones, who long below have sat, 
This dark enigma's strange solution to await.* 
Arise ! arise ! and cast your locks from off your brows — ■ 
Ope those dull eyes, and wink not so, but list to me ! 

CHORUS. 

Speak, thou wise one, quick discover all the wondrous 

sights that crossed thee, 

And the wilder prove thy legends, with the greater joy 

we'll hear them, .1 . 

' these 

For we feel most dull and lonesome when on A dark cliffs 
we gaze. 

* This refers to the supposed audience, who might naturally be ima- 
gined curious to discover whither this phantasmagoric interlude of 
Helen could tend. 



204 FAUST. 

PHORCYAS. 

Scarce your eyes are opened, children, yet already dull 
ye feel ? 

Hearken, then ! In yonder caverns, yonder bowers and 

grottoes smiling, 
Home and shelter have been granted, as to some fond 

rural lovers, 
To our lord and fairest lady. 

CHORUS. 

What ? Within there ? 

PHORCYAS. 

Yes, divided 

From the world with me alone as faithful servant, dwelt 
they gladly. 

Highly honoured stood I near them, but, as confidants 
beseemeth, 

Gazed I round for other pastime. Turned now here, 

now there in silence, 
Roots, and bark, and herbs collecting, each of health the 

source and fountain, 
And they thus remained alone. 

CHORUS. 

Ha! thou speak'st as if within there subterranean worlds 
were lying, 

Woods and meadows, lakes and rivers — are thy legends 
false or true ? 

PHORCYAS. 

True in sooth, ye giddy maidens ! there lurk fathomless 
abysses, 

Halls and courts that never end them — lost in thought 

through these I pass'd. 
Of a sudden mirthful laughter echoes through the cave's 

recesses ; 



FAUST. 205 

And behold ! a boy of beauty to and fro is wildly 
springing 

From the mother to the father : and the greetings, the 
caresses, 

Eager love's delighted toyings, cries of joy and mirthful 
antics, 

They confused my wondering soul. 
He, a naked wingless genius, like a Faun without his 
wildness, 

Leaps upon the ground beneath him, but the ground 

with quick reaction 
Casts him upwards to the ether, and thus twice, thus 

thrice rebounding, 
He the o'erarching vault attains. 

Wildly anxious cries the mother: Spring and leap as 

best thou pleasest, 
But beware, beware, thou fly'st not ; flight, my child, to 

thee's denied. 

And the loving father counsels : In the earth that power 
resideth, 

Which impels thee upwards, — let thy foot but touch the 

earth in passing, 
And like famed Antceus, quickly thou shalt new-born 

vigour gain. 

Thus then, springs he on the rock's o'erhanging brow, 

and o'er the chasm 
Leaps to yonder cliff beyond it, like a ball that flies 

through air. 

But behold ! within a fissure's gaping rent, he now hath 
vanished, 

And for ever lost appears he. Mother weeps, and 

father whispers 
Words of comfort — awe-struck stand I. But what sight 

again behold we ? 
Lay concealed there wondrous treasures ? Garments 

all with flowers embroidered, 



206 



FAUST. 



He hath donned with graceful care. 

Ribbons round his arms are waving, fillets round his 

breast have twined them, 
In his hand the golden lyra, like a youthful Phcebus 

beaming, 

Steps he on the cliff above us, to the rocky edge ; we 
wonder. 

And the parents? all delighted, join in rapture's fond 
embrace. 

But what shines around his tresses ? What may mean 
those beams of glory ? 

Fall they from some golden circlet, or from genius' in- 
ward fire ? 

Thus he moves in graceful measure, even as boy himself 
revealing 

As the future Lord of Beauty, in whose light and youth- 
ful members 

Music seems to dwell and linger ; and e'en thus shall ye 
behold him, 

Thus shall hear his voice of magic, gaze, and wonder, 
and admire. 

CHORUS. 

Seems this so strange to thee, 
Woman of Creta ? 
Hast thou the bardic high strain 
Never with gladness listed ? 
Never heard the proud Ionia's 
Or our beauteous Hellas' 
Strange, old ancestral legends, 
That of gods and heroes tell thee ? 
All things that now may pass, 
Mournful or gladsome 
Visions and types are they, 
Of days now vanished for ever ; 
And thy tale in naught can equal 
That which liveliest fiction, 



FAUST. 



207 



Truth's dull scenes surpassing, 
Of the son of Maia warbled. 

This most graceful, and yet most strong, 

Newborn, wonderful infant, 

Folded in purest swaddling clothes, 

Wrapped, too, in costliest swathing sheets, 

His for aye babbling nurses' train, 

In their ignorant folly. 

Agile and graceful, lo! right soon 

Draws the varlet his flexible 

Though but newly-formed members 

Forth from their bonds, behind him thus 

The shell of purple hue leaving, 

Where beneath it he erst did lie ; 

As the butterfly woke from sleep, 

Erst a torpid chrysalis, 

Spreading its pinions, doth burst its cell, 

Through the bright sunny ether, then 

Flying boldly and gaily. 

So too he, the most active one, 

That of thieves and deceivers 

He for ever would patron be, 

By his wonderful arts did shew, 

And by his wiles of magic. 

First of his trident Ocean's lord 

Robs he with speed, then from Mars himself 

Bears the sword from its scabbard ; 

Arrows and bows from Phoebus too, 

Hammers from Vulcan he plunders ; 

Even Jove's own lightning fires, 

Flamed they not, he had borne away ; 

But young Eros he subdued 

Wildly wrestling in eager zeal, 

And from Cypria, as she caressed him, 

Stole he the girdle of beauty. 



208 



FAUST. 



(A charming and melodious strain of music, as from a 
lyra, is heard from the depths of the cavern. All listen, 
and soon appear greatly moved. All that follows up to 
the pause marked at the termination of the next scene, is 
accompanied by harmonious music.) 

PHORCYAS. 

Yon sweet tones to feel endeavour, 
Of your legends speak no more ! 
Dead and buried, flown for ever, 
Are the fabled gods of yore. 

All your words to Night are wafted, 
Gentler accents we require ; 
Songs alone in hearts engrafted, 
Others' hearts with joy inspire. 

(She retires towards the cliffs.) 

CHORUS. 

If thou, strange and fearful being, 
By these tones to joy art moved, 
Fall our tears, our bosoms freeing, 
As when first we lived and loved. 

Let the sun in darkness vanish, 
When within the soul is light; . 
Tempest clouds we then can banish, 
And may smile at fellest Night ! 

HELEN, FAUST, EUPHORION, 

(in the costume above described.) 

EUPHORION. 

Hear ye childhood's songs resounding ? 
Forthwith seems my joy your own ; 
See ye me in gambols bounding ? 
Gladness' spell is o'er ye thrown. 



FAUST. 



209 



HELEN. 

Love, with earth's delights, to joy us, 
Hearts of twain with passion warms, 
But with heaven's own bliss to buoy us, 
He a noble triad forms. 

FAUST. 

Gladness' star above is shining ; 
I in thee, and thou in me! 
Thus we stand, our arms entwining — 
Thus our bliss shall endless be. 

CHORUS. 

With what joy and eager gladness 
Now their child the parents see ! 
Truce to care, and hence with sadness ! 
Fond are they, and blest is he. 

EUPHORION. 

High see me leaping, 
Mounting in gladness ! 
Where clouds are sleeping 
Long I with madness 
Proudly to hover, 
Wildly to fly. 

FAUST. 

Patience, oh ! patience ! 
Leap not too boldly, 
Lest death and evil 
Grasp thee all coldly ; 
Think if thou fallest 
We twain shall die. 

EUPHORION. 

Earth's misty vapour 
My breath oppresses ; 
Grasp not my hands then*, 



210 



FAUST. 



Grasp not my tresses, 
Grasp not my garments—- 
Are they not mine? 

HELEN. 

Hear us, my darling, 
My joy, my pleasure ! 
Pause, I implore thee, 
Think, oh ! my treasure, 
How thou destroyest 
Our bond divine. 

CHORUS. 

Too soon, I fear me ! 
Thou lone shalt pine ! — 

HELEN AND FAUST. 

Child of Love, child of Hope, 
Boy whom we cherish, 
Give not thy feelings scope, 
Or thou must perish ! 
O'er yon vale's borders 
Mirthfully stray. 

EUPHORION. 

But for your orders 
Here I delay. 

(Entivining himself amongst the Chor us, and drawing 
them irresistibly into the dance,) 

Lo ! where the myrtles bow 
Guide I the train. 
Like ye the measure now? 
Say, are ye pleased again ? 

HELEN. 

Yes, through the flowery glade 
Dance with each lightsome maid, 
Joy be thy goal ! 



FAUST. 



211 



FAUST. 

Folly rules now, I ween, 
Naught in this idle scene 
Gladdens my soul. 

EUPHORION AND CHORUS, 

(dancing and singing, move in ever-changing circles.) 

When thou thy arms so bright 

Softly entwinest, 

When 'neath thy tresses' night 

Star-like thou shinest ; 

When thy light steps have past 

Over the earth so fast, 

Like zephyrs soft in air, 

Speeding now here, now there : 

Then is thy charms' spell cast 

O'er us, fair child ! 

All the most cold and wild 

Love thee at last. 

(Pause.) 

EUPHORION. 

Ye are harts springing 

From glades where ye slumbered. 

Hark ! horns are ringing — 

Your hours are numbered ! 

I am the hunter — 

Ye are the prey. 

CHORUS. 

Haste not too madly, 
Bright one, to chase us ! 
For we will gladly 
Let thee embrace us, 
And thou shalt catch us 
Without delay. 



212 



FAUST. 



EUPHORION. 

Haste to the mountains ! 
Round brakes and fountains ! 
That which is lightly gained 
Pleases not me ; 
Things but by force attained 
My joy shall be. 

HELEN AND EAUST. 

What strange madness, wildest pleasure ! 
See him haste with speed unbounded ! 
Hark ! the wild horn's sylvan measure ! 
Shrieks and cries are rising loudly, 
Echoes start in strange alarms. 

CHORUS, 

(entering singly, in haste.) 

Quickly he hath pass'd before us, 
On us gazing, coldly, proudly, 
And the wildest of our chorus 
Bears he hither in his arms. 

EUPHORION, 

{dragging in a young maiden.) 

Hither I the struggling fair one 
'Gainst her will have borne victorious ; 
Thus will I alone be blest, 
Pressing a resisting breast, 
Kissing lips that hail not mine, 
Proving thus my strength divine. 

MAIDEN. 

Free me, boy ! In these young members 
Lurks a soul like thine unmoved ; 
Naught shall quench my spirit's embers, 
It shall love but where it loved. 



FAUST. 



2 



Think'st thou force my hate can banish ? 
Deem'st thou I shall be thy tool ? 
Grasp me firmly, while I vanish, 
Scorning thee, the vanquished fool. 

(She suddenly becomes a flame and fades into the ether.) 

Follow me, if here thou pinest, 
Follow me to spheres divinest, 
Seek me where the shadows rule. 

EUPHORION, 

{Shaking off the lingering remnants of the flame.) 

Frown not the forests here 
Under the mountains old ? 
Up to a higher sphere ! 
Am I not young and bold ? 
Hark ! how the winds resound, 
Hark ! how the waves rebound ! 
I hear them laugh and sigh — 
To them I fly. 

{He springs higher and higher up the cliffs.) 

HELEN, FAUST, AND CHORUS. 

Wouldst thou like the wild goat wander ? 
Soon, perchance, thou fall'st in night. 

EUPHORION. 

Higher ! higher ! ne'er to ponder, 
Till I gain the mountain's height. — 
Now where I am I know ! 
There lies the isle below, 
Pelops' fair ocean-land 
By the sea-breezes fanned. 



214 



FAUST. 



CHORUS. 

Rest in these peaceful vales, 
Loved one, reposing, 
Where flowers, 'neath vernal gales, 
Sweets are disclosing ; 
Grapes cull for thee our band, 
Figs, with the golden pear ; 
Oh, in this fairest land, 
Rest thou, most fair ! 

EUPHORION. 

Dream ye of peace and rest ! 
Dreams may not lull my breast. 
War is the signal word ! 
Conquest must earn the sword. 

CHORUS. 

He who can banish 

Fair peace, from love of war, 

Soon shall see vanish 

In dark night gladness' star. 

EUPHORION. 

All whom this land hath born, 
Free as the beams of morn, 
Youths who, devoid of woe, 
Fear not an earthly foe, 
All these are bound to prove 
That naught they dread ; 
Let them to battle rove 
Where friends lie dead ! 

CHORUS. 

Lo ! how far on high he soareth, 
And no smaller yet appears ! 
Gleam his arms, whilst loud he poureth 
Warlike strains through ether's spheres. 



FAUST. 



215 



EUPHORION. 

Waves we need not, walls we ask not, 
Each alone himself shall guard ; 
In blind fortune's beams we bask not, 
Conquest be our toil's reward ! 

Would ye face a thousand Neros, 
Would ye despots drive afar, 
Let your children prove them heroes, 
And your women join the war !* 

CHORUS. 

Poesy, sacred Power, 
Up to the skies doth tower ! 
There as a star it beams 
Smiling with golden gleams, 
And still its strain we hear, 
Loud as if ever near 
Though far it seems. 

EUPHORION. 

No, not a child I rush to glory, 
In arms the active youth appears ! 
Like all the bold and brave before me, 
I laugh to scorn dark doubts and fears. 
Away ! 
The day 

Shall close with blood, or end in tears. 

HELEN and FAUST. 

Scarce to life and joy awaking, 
Gazing erst on Morn's bright beam, 

* It is evident that all the latter part of this scene refers to Lord Byron, 
typified by Euphorion, his expedition to Greece, &c. 

T 



216 



FAUST. 



Thou thy only friends forsaking, 

Death alone to seek dost seem. 

Are then we 

Naught to thee? 

Was our union but a dream ? 

EUPHORION. 

Hear ye the thunder roll o'er ocean, 

Hear ye the rocks and vales resound ? 

Wild hosts meet hosts in fierce commotion, 

Blood streams, red carnage shakes the ground. 

Death alone 

Mounts his throne, 

He the lord of earth is crowned. 

HELEN, FAUST, and CHORUS. 

Fearful horror ! woe and anguish ! 
Must dread Death make thee his own ? 

EUPHORION. 

Should I here inactive languish ? 
Death be mine or glory's throne ! 

THE FORMER. 

Wild and audacious zeal ! 
Yet, yet delay ! 

EUPHORION. 

No ! — Wings themselves reveal — 
Fly then I may ! 
Onwards ! My fortune thus 
Boldly I dare ! 

(He casts himself into the air, his garments bear him for a 
moment ; round his head beams an aureole^ a long ray 
of light appears to follow him.) 



FAUST. 



217 



CHORUS. 

Icarus ! Icarus ! 
Woe and despair. 

(A beautiful youth falls at his parents' feet ; those who 
behold him imagine that they recognise a well-known 
form in the dead; but the material body vanishes 
forthwith, the aureole mounts, like a comet, to the 
heavens, garment, mantle, and lyra remain lying on 
the earth.) 

HELEN and FAUST. 

Sorrows now overwhelm 
Where joy hath flown. 

euphorion's voice from the deep. 

Leave me in this dark realm, 
Mother, not all alone! 

[Pause.) 

CHORUS. 

{Mourning Dirge.) 

Not alone ! — where'er thou dwellest, 
For we think that well we know thee; 
Though in night and death thou fellest, 
Still the debt of love we owe thee. 
But with envy can we name thee, 
Mourn not for thy early fate : 
Still we knew, whoe'er might blame thee, 
Sweet thy song, thy courage great. 

Born to cull earth's fairest blossoms, 
Sprung from sires who high held sway, 
Thou, alas ! on falsest bosoms 
Castedst youth and love away ; 

t 2 



218 



FAUST. 



Thine was eyesight keen and rarest, 
For each sorrow pity mild, 
Kindest love of woman fairest, 
And the song of genius wild. 

But, alas ! by passion guided, 
Thou didst folly's fetters don, 
Laws and customs all derided 
Still thou wildly hurriedst on ; 
But thou strov'st those chains to sever, 
Sought'st in war a noble name ; 
High and great was thy endeavour — 
Thou hast failed, but failed with fame. 

Say, alas ! what erring mortal 

May his labour's goal attain? 

Opes Death's wide and dreary portal, 

And he rests among the slain. 

Yet take courage ! Soon uniting 

Shall triad songs again resound ; 

Fast as winds sweet flowers are blighting, 

Flowers are bursting from the ground. 

(Complete pause. The music ceases.) 

HELEN [tO FAUST.) 

An ancient proverb now in me its truth displays, 
That happiness and beauty ne'er may long combine. 
Rent is the bond of life and passion's softer tie; 
Both these lamenting I in sorrow say farewell ! 
And cast me in thy arms for one last sad embrace. 
Persephoneia now receive my boy and me ! 

(She embraces Faust, her corporeal form vanishes, 
dress and veil remain in his arms.) 



FAUST. 



219 



PHORCYAS (to FAUST.) 

Hold fast the only remnant left thee now. 
Yon garment — yield it not ! There at the skirts 
Demons already pluck, who to the world 
Below, would quickly tear it ! Hold thou fast ! 
'Tis not the goddess thou for aye hast lost, 
Yet is it godlike. Straight employ its magic, 
Its priceless power, and soar with it aloft ; 
Through the clear ether o'er dense matter's sphere, 
Long as thou flight canst bear, 'twill lead thee on. 
We meet again, O friend, far far from here. 

(Helen's robes dissolve into clouds, surround Faust, bear 
him on high, and pass away in the far distance with 
him.) 

PHORCYAS 

takes Euphorion's garment and lyre from the earth, steps 
to the proscenium, raises the exuvia* {remains) on high, 
and speaks. 

These well to guard be my endeavour ! 

The flame indeed hath sunk for ever, 

But still the world to these shall bend. 

Here is enough to make of bards a number, 

Rhyme's realm o'er nations to extend ; 

And though I give not genius, and such lumber, 

Its dress at least to all I'll lend. 

(She seats herself in the proscenium, leaning against the 
base of a column.) 

PANTHALIS. 

Now quick, ye maidens ! 'Scaped have we the spell at last, 
The strange dominion of that old Thessalian hag ; 
Also the tiresome jinglings of those idle strains 
That erst confused our hearing, and our thoughts within. 



•220 



FAUST. 



Down then to Hades ! Fled not even now the Queen 
In solemn sorrow thither ? Lo ! behind her still, 
E'en in her footsteps' tracks advance her faithful train. 
Her shall we find before the Unrevealed One's throne. 

CHORUS. 

Mighty queens and rulers — where may they not abide ? 

E'en in Hades, still they on high are placed, 

Proudly with their equals conjoined, 

By Persephone honoured and loved ; 

Aye — but we at humble distance, 

Over meads of darkness straying, 

Decked by thin and lofty poplars, 

Where the mournful willows grieve in night. 

What delights and sports have we ? 

Flitter mouse-like to whistle, 

In endless, spectral converse, combining. 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 

They who nor fame deserve, nor what is noble crave, 
Pertain but to the elements ; so fare ye well ! 
I with my Queen to be, most anxiously desire ; 
Fidelity my Personal Being shall preserve. 

[Exit 

ALL. 

Once more restored, then, are we to light and day ; 

Not as Persons 'tis true, 

This feel we, this know we well, 

But to thee, Hades, never return we. 

Nature, thou endless one, again 

Claimest us spirits. 

As thou mortals claimest and rulest. 

A SECTION OF THE CHORUS. 

We within those trees so lofty, here for ever sighing, 
swaying, 



FAUST. 221 

Will with spells of love and fondness, conjure life's most 
secret sources 

Towards the branches ; now with blossoms, now with 

vernal leaves unnumbered, 
Will we deck our flowing tresses, there behind the boughs 

concealed. 

Falls the fruit, then quickly hasten flocks and herdsmen, 
all uniting, 

There the prize to seize and gather, stooping, bending, 

wildly pressing, 
And, as to the high immortals, all around to us shall 

bow. 

ANOTHER SECTION. 

We against yon quick descending cliffs, the mountains 

rugged mirror, 
Like to soft and flowing billows, will our viewless forms 

recline ; 

There we list all sounds around us, birds' sweet war- 

blings, shepherds' pipings ; 
When Pan's mighty voice resoundeth, send we back as 

loud reply ; 

Murmurs we with murmurs answer, thunder meets our 

rolling thunder, 
Which exceeds the daring challenge, threefold, tenfold, 

in its might. 

A THIRD SECTION. 

Sisters ! we, more change desiring, hasten onwards with 
the river, 

Towards yon distant range of mountains, where the 

forests smile, attracted. 
Downwards ever, further, further, roll we by, in swift 

meanders, 

Now the forests, then the meadows, straight the gardens 
round the house. 



222 FAUST. 

There where yonder cypress branches glisten, stands that 

mansion lonely, 
O'er the shores and waters reigning, soaring in the ether 

high. 

A FOURTH SECTION. 

Wander ye where best may please ye — we will dwell, 
will fondly linger, 

In and round yon heights so blooming, where the grapes 
round vinestocks twine. 

There, from hour to hour, the eager longings of the vine- 
yard's dresser 

Please and joy us, as he labours for the sweet but doubt- 
ful prize. 

Now the hoe, the spade employing, damming then, or 

binding, cutting, 
He to all the gods doth bend him, but to Phoebus most 

of all. 

Bacchus, the voluptuous dreamer, thinks not of his faith- 
ful vassal ; 

He in bower or cave reposeth, tended by the youngest faun. 
All that for his half-inebriate slumbers ever can be 
needed, 

Lies in leathern bags already, or in pitchers, urns, and 
vessels, 

Ranged along the vaults Olympian, where eternal cool 
ness reigns. 

But when all the gods uniting, Helios, more than all, 
the mighty, 

Breathing, airing, heating, glowing, richest stores of 

grapes have raised, 
Then, where erst the lonely peasant laboured, crowds on 

crowds assemble, 
And amid the plenteous harvest, cries of joy and mirth 

resound. 

Baskets tremble, pails are creaking, boards with luscious 
stores are decked, 



FAUST. 223 

To the mighty wine-press haste they, where the pressers 

leap and dance; 
Then the round and richly swelling grapes, that bloom 

in sacred beauty, 
All are crushed, by steps audacious in one odious mass 

conjoined. 

And now hail ! the warring cymbals, with the brazen 

vessels clashing, 
For the mighty Dionysos hath from mystery soared to 

light. 

Lo ! advance the cloven-footed satyrs, haste the bacchants 
wildly, 

And amongst the fearful clamour brays Silenus' long- 
eared beast. 

Naught be spared ! All shame, all virtue, sink before 

those cloven clutches, 
Let the senses whirl in wonder, let the ear by cries be 

stunned ! 

Blindly seek the all-inebriate cups and goblets ; sleep 

enchains them ; 
Others still the vine-juice wooing, leap in mad and furious 

gambols ; 

All the ancient bag would empty, room for new-won 
Must to find. 

(The curtain Jails.) 

(Phorcyas rises in gigantic height in the proscenium, 
steps down from the cothurns, throws off mask and veil, 
and shews herself as Mephistopheles, to comment on 
the piece, by way of Epilogue, as far as occasion may 
require. 



ACT THE FOURTH. 



CHARACTERS INTRODUCED. 

FAUST. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 
THE EMPEROR. 
FIELD MARSHAL. 
GREAT CHAMBERLAIN. 
MASTER OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 
GRAND BUTLER. 

ARCHBISHOP (ALSO ARCH-CHANCELLOR.) 
BOLDINSTRIFE, \ 

QUICKTOSEIZE, ItHE THREE MIGHTY ONES. 

HOLDITFAST, j 

HAGFORBOOTY, 

HERALDS. 

SPIES, ETC. 



ACT THE FOURTH. 



SCENE L 

Alpine heights, the summits of sharp pointed rocks around, 
A cloud approaches, then pauses, and descends to the 
surface of a prominent cliff. It divides. 

faust (stepping from it.) 

The deepest solitudes beholding here beneath, 
On these high summits now I cautiously descend, 
Leaving my cloudy chariot, which with gentle power 
Through the clear air hath borne me over land and sea. 
Behold ! it passes now, unparted still away, 
And to the distant east its silent course directs. 
With wonder doth the eye its flight through ether mark ! 
Lo ! now it parts and changes like to foaming waves. 
Again a form it takes. — Yes, yes ! I see aright ! 
As on a bright and golden couch extended, lo ! 
A vast, gigantic, yet most lovely female form 
Appears. Like Juno seems she, Leda, Helena, 
With wondrous beauty's light dazzling these mortal eyes. 
Ah, see ! it changes ! Formless, wide, and towered on 
high, 

Eastwards it resteth like to distant heights of snow, 
Emblem of vast desires in fleeting hours that rise. 
But, lo ! a soft and snow-white vapour hovers still 



228 



FAUST. 



Around my brow, that breathes of joy and calm repose. 
Now slowly, lingering, it ascends, it mounts in air, 
And there combines. — What? See I that most lovely 
form, 

That prize which craved my youth, now all too long 
desired ? 

The early treasures of my heart revive once more ; 
Aurora's love, the youthful smile of Passion's spring, 
That quickly felt yet never fathomed first bright glance, 
Which in the heart immured, life's sweetest prize re- 
mains. — - 

Like a pure soul, still ever fairer grows the form, 
Dissolves not, but to highest realms of air ascends, 
And bears with it my nobler self, my heart, away. 

(A seven-league Boot steps in.) 

{A second follows immediately afterwards.) 

mephistopheles descends. 

{The Boots stride hastily further.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

That's what I call a proper pace ! 

But say, good friend, what means this folly? 

What made thee stop in such a place, 

The seat of cold and melancholy ? 

I knew it well when in another station, 

For this was once our Tartarus' foundation. 

FAUST. 

Of silly legends thou'st an endless store. 

Would 'st rack thy quick invention here once more? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

When from the heights of ether we descended, 
And seas of raging flames around us lay, 
Darkness and light in wild confusion blended, 
At once a fearful night, a dazzling day, 



FAUST. 



229 



Then fearful earthquakes' pangs the realm assailed, 
Above, below, the earth in anguish quailed; 
She shook, she shivered, parted ! Through the void 
Were cast vast massive mountains tempest-buoyed.— 
Thus soared these cliffs, most strangely, you'll allow, 
And what was u bottom" once is " surface" now. 
Thence demagogues conclude, and such-like scum, 
The nethermost should uppermost become. 
Thus from our slavish vaults did we, too, soar, 
And breathed the air and ruled the earth once more. 
A wondrous mystery right long concealed, 
That to the nations late will be revealed. 

FAUST. 

A mountain in itself delighteth me, 
I ask not when or how it came to be. 
When nature first held sway o'er one and all, 
Then did she gently round this earthly ball, 
Joy in the summits, in the vales delight, 
And rocks and mountains form at once aright, 
Leading the chain in one curved line to flow, 
Still downwards bending to the vales below. 
Behold those cliffs, each soaring in its sphere ! 
No legendary tales are needed here. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

So, friend, you say, and deem it sure and true, 
But he who saw what passed knows more than you ! 
1 stood and gazed, even when the flames, outsoaring, 
Plunged from the dark abyss and rushed to day ; 
I heard dark Moloch's axe the mountains boring, 
Saw how the rocks he struck fled far away. — 
Behold, even now on earth vast clumps are lying ! 
Who can explain what cast them hither thus ? 
The sage philosophers, in learning vying, 
Could say no more, to save themselves from dying, 



230 



FAUST. 



Than — 6t There they lie, and there must lie, for us !" 

The sturdy people only guess the cause, 

And laugh at those who dare to doubt it. 

Perception's theirs of Nature's laws : 

Satan loves fame, and cannot live without it. 

Thus does my pilgrim, faith his guide and fountain, 

Roam to the Devil's-bridge, the Devil's mountain. 

FAUST. 

A mirthful theme for laughter, I declare, 
The view you Devils take of nature fair ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

What is't to me? Nature be what she may ! 
The Devil made her so — that's all I say. 
We are the tribe vast wonders to perform, 
The world itself by humbug's force to storm. — 
But come, to talk of what concerns thee nearly, 
Like'st naught in all our realm? Speak, friend, sincerely 
Thou here behold'st, in boundless vales before thee, 
The kingdoms of the earth and all their glory. 
But thou, perchance, a rock no dews can melt, 
Not one desire or wish hast felt ? 

FAUST. 

Thou err'st ! one ardent wish I knew. 
Canst guess it? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

That I soon can do. 
Some city vast mine own I'd make, 
Where hungry thousands boil and bake, 
With narrow streets, and crooked gables, 
And a market full of groaning tables, 
Cabbage and onions heaped around, 
And shambles, where the flies abound, 
And stores of oxen and calves are found. 



FAUST. 



231 



There, when for crowds thou feePst inclined., 
At every time thou'rt sure to find 
Activity and stench combined. 
Then roomy squares and houses high, 
To give an air of majesty ; 
And where no gates restrain the tide, 
Vast endless suburbs in their pride. 
There would I joy in chariots driving, 
In crowds all hasting, pressing, striving, 
Still bustling, crowding, flouting, funning, 
Like swarms of ants in terror running. 
And when amid them I drove or rode, 
Their homage should be on me bestowed — 
Their lord and master I would be ! 

FAUST. 

Not in such sphere my lot I'd cast ! 
One joys the people's joys to see, 
Their toil, their constant industry, 
Their seeming faithful loyalty, — 
And yet they'll rebels prove at last ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Then would I build, in pride and haughty leisure, 

A glorious palace for my pleasure. 

Wood, valley, meadow, hill, and field, 

United one fair garden yield. 

Beneath green walls, walks, white and level, 

Cascades that seem in mirth to revel, 

Flowers bright enough the eyes to blind, 

And waterworks of every kind. 

Here should the crystal fluid dart on high, 

There, like a fan expanding, all ways fly. 

Then, for full many a lovely maid, 

I cots would build 'neath myrtles' shade ; 

And so, 'mid joy and amorous play, 

Would pass the livelong hours away. 

u 



232 



FAUST. 



Full many a maid, say I, should hail us, 
For out of many, one can't fail us. 

FAUST. 

Be thou, not I, Sardanapalus ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Thou'dst have me guess for what thou'rt sighing ? 
Some grandly bold design I'll swear. 
As thou so near the Moon wert flying, 
Perchance thou long'dst to pay a visit there ? 

FAUST. 

Not so ! in this our earthly sphere 
There yet is space for deeds of glory. 
To gain the goal that lies before me 
I feel an eager longing here. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Glory thou seek'st ! — 'Tis lightly seen 
Thou hast with " heroines" dwelling been. 

FAUST. 

Possession, rule, by me are sought ! 
Action is all, and glory naught. 

mephistopheles {ironically.) 

Yet many a bard, I know full well, 
Ere long will rise thy deeds to tell, 
And ring thy praises' sounding bell. 

FAUST. 

Within thee burn curst Satire's fires. 
Thou little know'st what man requires : 
Thy hateful soul full little dreams, 
What man desires, and man esteems ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Whate'er thou wilt, it shall be so ! 
Let me thy fancy's upshot know. 



FAUST. 



233 



FAUST. 

My glance was fixed upon the azure ocean ; 
Proudly it rose, as if 'twould tower to heaven, 
Then fell again, whilst waves in fierce commotion 
Against the broad and level shores were driven. 
And this displeased me ; as audacious pride, 
The freeborn soul which still respects the right 
Will ever wound, and often rouse to side 
With the oppressed assailed one in the fight. 
I deemed 'twas only chance, and gazed once more ; 
The waves came bounding, leaping, as before, 
Then from the goal attained, retired again : 
Thus idly changing ever rolls the main. 

mephistopheles (ad spectator es.) 

The tidings are not over new to me ; 

This sight some thousand years 'twas mine to see. 

faust (continuing passionately.) 

Behold, they come ! now creeping, forthwith tearing, 

But still sterility within them bearing ; 

The tide increases, raves, and rolls, and roars, 

And spreads its billows o'er the barren shores. 

Wave after wave flows thus proud empire gaining, 

And then retires again no goal attaining. 

'Tis this that all but drives me to distraction! 

This elemental strife, this vain reaction. 

Here, dares my soul such waste of strength to stay ; 

Here, would I combat, here would win the day ! 

And this is possible ! — Though billows flow, 
Round each ascending height they wind below ; 
Though proudly ocean in her course may move, 
She still is checked by aught that soars above, 
By aught that sinks beneath attracted still ; 
Thus did my soul this mighty purpose will : 



234 



FAUST. 



" Do thou attain the means by force or art, 
The tyrant ocean from the shore to part ; 
Contracting thus the frontiers of their course, 
The waves rebounding on themselves to force !" 
Each needful step did I deep-pondering note ; 
This is my wish— -and this shalt thou promote ! 

(Drums and warlike music, behind the audience, from the 
distance.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Ail easy task ! — -Hear'st thou the drums afar ? 

FAUST. 

What I — war again ? — I mourn that such things are. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Well, war or peace, forget not this great law — 
From all or aught thine own advantage draw. 
The wise man waits each favourable " Now 
Occasion offers, Faust — quick, grasp it thou ! 

FAUST. 

No senseless riddles ! Let thy words be few; 
Say, in a trice — what mean'st thou ? what's to do ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Long have I heard, even whilst afar we strayed, 

That our good Emperor was sore dismayed 

By dangers nigh. When we amused him so, 

And Caused false riches at his will to flow, 

He deemed earth made for him alone; 

Right young was he when first he scaled the throne, 

And thence he chose to think, poor boy ! 

That he might with the greatest ease, 

Himself and others rule and please— 

At once might govern and enjoy. 



FAUST. 



235 



FAUST. 

A grand mistake! He who would fain command, 
Must in command itself feel joy and bliss. 
His mighty will designs sublime hath planned, 
But none the secrets of his breast may wiss. 
What to his trustiest subject he reveals, 
Behold, 'tis done ! Success the labour seals. 
Thus he, as lord and king, his vassals aids, 
And reigns supreme. — Enjoyment but degrades. 

ME PHIS TOP HE LFS. 

Thus thought he not ! He too enjoyed, and how ? 
Meantime ruled anarchy triumphant now, 
Brothers their brothers striving still to slay 
Both great and small fought on for aye. 
Castle with castle warred, and town with town; 
Burgher and knight would tear each other down. 
The bishop with his flock exchanged hard blows, 
And all were rivals — all were foes. 
In churches men were murdered ; on his way, 
Each wandering merchant did the robber slay 
Boldness still bolder grew, power rule had won ; 
He who would live, must fight ! — Thus things roll on. 

FAUST. 

Roll, say'st thou ? — Nay, hop, fall, and rise again, 
Turn topsy-turvy, and capsized remain ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Sad was this state of things I own ; 

Each acted for himself alone, 

The weakest even shewed his own small spite. 

At last, wise men grew tired of this long fight, 

And rose and cried — " Still ills increase I 

Our Lord is he who gives us peace. 

The Emperor can or will not ; let us choose 

Another, then, e'er all life's joys we lose ! 



236 



FAUST. 



Let this new Lord each man protect, 
The bad condemn, the wise direct, 
And Justice* aid to none refuse !" 

FAUST. 

A priestly speech methinks ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

And priests they were ; 
In peace they lived upon the richest fare, 
And thence that peace most ardently desired. 
Rebellion waxed in force, was deemed by heaven 
spired; 

And he, our Emperor, whom we twain did cheer, 
To his last battle now perchance draws near. 

FAUST. 

I grieve for him ; right kind and frank was he. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Who lives may hope. We know not what may be ! 
Could we but free him from this narrow vale, 
But save him tjiis one time — then hope, all hail ! 
Who knows how yet the dice may fall ? 
He who once conquers, myriads friends may call. 

( They cross the central pass in the mountains, and gaze 
the disposition of the army in the vale.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

A good position here I see they've ta'en ! 
If we but join them, victory they must gain. 

FAUST. 

What idle tricks wouldst thou essay ? 
Cheats ! Magic vapours ! Childish play. 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

No! warlike strategy that foes subdues : 
Come, list to me, thy daring views 
Thou now may'st forward if thou wilt. 
The'emperor's crown and throne be't thine to guard 
Be't thine to punish daring traitors' guilt, 
And crave the boundless shore as thy reward ! 

FAUST. 

Full long 'twas thine o'er earth to rattle ; 
Much hast thou done ! — Now, gain a battle. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

No, thou shalt gain it ! Only thou 
Shalt be our great field-marshal now. 

FAUST. 

This were indeed a fit command, 

To order where I nothing understand ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

When such a staff of honour's near, 

The worst field-marshal need not fear. 

Long have I discord apprehended, 

And means of strife from wondrous sources blended , 

Which there, within yon mountains, lay ; 

Antediluvian powers that soon shall soar to day, 

And miracles of force display. 

FAUST. 

What see I there ? Vast forms by armour walled ! 
Hast thou the mountain people hither called ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

No. Warriors dire are these that seek our presence, 
Of power and force the strong quintessence. 

(The three Mighty Ones enter.) 



238 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Here come, my friends, in proud array, 
Thou see'st they different ages boast, 
And different dress and armour ; bold are they, 
With them the wildest foes thou overthrow'st ! 

(Ad Spectatores.) 

I know that every child, and you friends, all, 
Delight in knightly armour, spear, and shield ; 
And as the knaves are allegorical, 
I doubt not they the better sport will yield. 

BOLDINSTRIFE. 

(Young r , lightly armed, in parti- coloured apparel.) 
If my fixed gaze a mortal meets 

With my balled fist forth w ith his greedy jaws I shatter, 
And when a trembling coward retreats, 
His locks I tear, his limbs I batter. 

QU1CKTOSEIZE. 

(Manly, 10 ell armed, richly clad.) 

Such idle quarrels, vain are they, 
And in them lose we time and booty ; 
Do thou but grasp and seize alway, — 
This be thy first, thy sweetest duty. 

HOLDITFAST. 

(Aged, strongly armed, without a garment.)* 

And even by this not much is won ! 

Soon are vast treasures spent and gone, 

Sunk in the endless stream of life. 

'Tis good to take, indeed, but better far to keep ; 

Let thou the greybeard guard thy treasure's heap, 

And thou may'st laugh, in peace or strife ! 

( They all descend together.) 
* i. e., Clad in steel armour only. 



FAUST. 



239 



SCENE II. 

The foremost height of the mountain. Drums and war- 
like music heard from below. The Emperor's tent is 
pitched. Emperor, Chief General, Officers. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

Our purpose still most wise and apt doth shew, 
In drawing all our valiant host 
To this deep vale, in arms to wait the foe ; 
Here is, I ween, our fittest post. 

EMPEROR. 

The event will prove how this may be, 
But this half-flight, this yielding, vexes me. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

Behold, my Prince, yon right flank, firm and strong ! 

For such a field great warriors long ; 

The heights not steep, nor easy of access, 

For our advantage, for the foes distress ; 

We half-concealed lie on this waving plain — 

A charge of cavalry would here be vain. 

EMPEROR. 

Nothing is left me then but praise ; 
Here let us spears and lances raise ! 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

Here, on the central meadow's broad and level slope, 
See'st thou the phalanx full of zeal and hope. 
The pikes dance proudly gleaming in the air 
Through morning mists where shine the sunbeams fair. 

x 



240 



FAUST. 



How dark yet firm the mighty square appears ! 
Here thousands glow for fame and spurn all fears. 
Thus see'st thou yon vast mass, one sword, one heart — 
I trust in them the foemen's mass to part. 

EMPEROR. 

So fair a sight I never yet did see : 

Worth twice their number such a host must be. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

Of our left flank I little need to say, 
Brave warriors there guard cliffs in firm array. 
Yon rocky mounts, where spear and banner glows, 
Is this deep vale's sole pass that checks all foes. 
Here, as I ween, with efforts naught availing 
The foemen's hosts will climb the pass assailing. 

EMPEROR. 

There go the false relations, all who failed me, 
All who as uncle, cousin, brother, hailed me, 
Who more and more abused my kindness shewn, 
The sceptre scorned, of honour robbed the throne, 
And then, themselves conflicting, racked the realm, 
But now unite their Lord to overwhelm. 
The common crowd in doubt one moment wavers, 
Then streams to him whom fickle Fortune favours. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

A faithful man, we sent to watch affairs, 

Hastes down yon rocks — I trust he tidings bears. 

FIRST SPV. 

Haply have we dared to wander 
'Mid yon angry foemen's ring ; 
Like a stream did we meander, 
But we little comfort bring. 



FAUST. 



241 



Many faithful homage proffer 
And still true to thee remain, 
Others vain excuses offer, 
Thousands join thy foemen's train, 

EMPEROR. 

To guard itself alone seeks Selfishness, 

On duty, honour, love, lays little stress. 

Nay, man forgets, — and this indeed is stranger,— 

When burns a neighbour's house, his home's in danger. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

Behold our second scout ! he slowly comes ; 
Fatigue, no doubt, his weary limbs benumbs. 

SECOND SPY. 

Doubts and terrors wildly blended 
First we viewed, one warring flame ; 
But a Prince, by hosts attended, 
Soon as Emperor thither came. 
And the mass, ay, weak and hollow, 
All obeyed his proud decree, 
All his flaunting banners follow — 
Flocks of sheep such mortals be ! 

EMPEROR. 

This Rival Monarch fires my soul to war, 

Now first I feel myself an Emperor. 

This armour I have donned for martial show. 

Now first its aim, its worthy use I know. 

At every festival, however bright, 

I something missed, when all professed delight ; 

'Twas Danger ! To the circling ring ye went,* 

* Ringspiel. A game played by mounted knights in the Middle 
Ages. Riding in a circle, they endeavoured to carry off a ring, placed 
on high, on the point of their lances. 

x 2 



242 



FAUST. 



My heart desired the clashing Tournament ; 

And if ye had not all from war dissuaded, 

The laurel wreath would long this brow have shaded. 

I felt that force and zeal this breast inspire 

When mirrored in the gleaming Realm of Fire ; 

Around me flamed the element ideal; 

'Twas but delusion, yet it seemed most real. 

Of fame and conflict I have dreamt alone, 

That such dreams were not vain shall now be shewn. 

(The Heralds are dismissed to hear a challenge to the 
Rival Emperor.) 

(Enter Faust in complete armour with his visor half 
drawn. ) 

( The three Mighty Ones follow him armed and apparelled 
as above.) 

FAUST. 

Behold, we come, and as we hope unblamed ; 

Of prudent care none e'er need feel ashamed. — 

Thou know'st the mountain people think and ponder, 

And in the realms of Thought and Nature wander. 

The spirits from prosaic plains retiring 

Now love to seek these heights to heaven aspiring ; 

Here too in labyrinthine vaults they stray, 

And with perfumes from noblest gases play. 

Thus, aye dividing, testing and combining, 

They labour still, unheard-of forms designing, 

And from the efforts of their Magic Art 

Transparent creatures into being start ; 

Then, 'mid a crystal world, behold their glances, 

All that above on earth's firm surface chances. 

EMPEROR. 

The tale I oft have heard, — but say, good friend, 
To what just now may such a preface tend ? 



FAUST. 



243 



FAUST. 

Norcia's Magician, he of Sabine race, 

Reveres thee, Monarch, in thy power and grace. 

When deadly fate upon the Doomed One frowned, 

When furious crowds had pressed the stake around, 

When flamed the fire, and blocks with shavings dry 

'Mid pitch and brimstone-rods were piled on high, 

Then, when nor Man, nor Heaven, nor Hell could save, 

Great Majesty redeemed him from the grave. 

In Rome this chanced. — In heartfelt gratitude, 

He since with loving care thy course hath viewed ; 

Even from that hour himself he clean forgot, 

And save for thee, stars, depths, hath questioned not. 

Us hath he sent with all our might and main 

To aid thee. In these mounts vast Powers remain ! 

There Nature arms and soon shall fight for thee ; 

The stupid Priests would call it Sorcery. 

EMPEROR. 

On days of gladness when our guests we greet 
Who crave but pleasure, and but pleasure meet, 
Each comer glacis our heart with new delight 
And crowded halls we deem the fairest sight ; 
But truly welcome must the brave one be, 
Who comes as firm ally in valiant glee 
Our foes to combat at that weighty hour 
When evil threatens, and when dangers lower. 
Yet now, in this great moment, sheathe once more 
My valiant friends, the swords ye hither bore ; 
Now, even now, when hosts of warriors bright 
For and against me hasten to the fight. 
Himself must Man defend ! — who crown and throne 
As his demands, be worthy of them shown ! 
Be the foul spectre who against us stands, 
Our name assumes, our vassals all commands, 



244 



FAUST. 



To whom yon rebel lords high sway have given 
Be he by Us to death's dark regions driven ! 

FAUST. 

Good though it seem great actions to achieve, 
That thou thy head shouldst risk I can but grieve. 
Behold the feathers on thy helm that frown ! 
Their sight inspires us all to shield thy crown. 
Say ! what without the head could do the members ? 
Sink, as deprived of fuel fade the embers. 
If this is wounded all the limbs are sore, 
When it revives, they start to life once more. 
Then knows the arm to use its force aright, 
The shield it raises then to combat might ; 
The sword at once its duty then performs. 
Wards off all blows and soon assailing storms ; 
The active foot obeys its master's beck, 
And sets it on the conquered foeman's neck. 

EMPEROR. 

So would my rage my daring rival treat, 
And make his head a stool for my proud feet ! 

heralds (return.) 

Little honour, scorn undoubted, 
'Mid thy foes, O Monarch, hailed us ; 
They our valiant message flouted 
And with scoffs and jeers assailed us : 
" Like an Echo past and banished, 
He, your lord, is dead, we ween ; 
Strive we to recal the vanished : 
Legends say, He once hath been." 

faust (after a pause.) 

Thus have things chanced as thy best friends desired, 
Who stand beside thee here by zeal inspired. 



FAUST. 



245 



There nears the foe, thy army feels its might ; 
Direct the onset, and commence the fight ! 

EMPEROR. 

The high command of all I now resign. 

(To the Chief General.) 
This staff of honour, gallant Prince, be thine ! 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

Then let our brave right wing at once advance ! 
The foe men's left, e'en now the heights ascending, 
Shall, e'er on high its banner waves and lance, 
Retire, to youth and ardent valour bending. 

FAUST. 

Permit, I pray thee, that this hero brave 
Yon ranks may join, where high the banners wave ; 
May there, 'midst other heroes, fight and slay, 
And so his vigour and his gifts display. 

(He points to the right.) 

boldinstrife (steps forward.) 

Who shews his face to me shall wend it now 
But with scored brow and cheeks all crushed and bleed- 
ing; 

Who turns his back on me full soon shall bow, 

Head, neck, and brains, with gore earth's surface feeding. 

And if thy soldiers then shall fight 

As I with sword and club will clatter, 

Then shall thy foes sink all in night, 

And heads and limbs our blows shall shatter. [Exit. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

Now let our centre's phalanx follow straight, 
Then let it meet the foe with valiant hate ; 



•246 



FAUST. 



There On the right ; where our courageous host 
Already now assails the foemen's post. 

FAUST, 

(pointing to the central one of the three.) 
Then let this warrior too thy words obey ! 

quicktoseize {steps forward.) 

Our valiant army's zeal for duty 

Shall soon be joined by hopes of booty ; 

And on one goal shall all be bent — 

The rival Emperor's costly tent. 

Not long he now shall dare to brave ye, 

I'll head the phalanx that is doomed to save ye. 

HAGFORBOOTY. 

{Sutler ess, closely joining herself to him.) 

Although I'm not my brave one's wife, 
I'll follow him still through war and strife. 
For us did a harvest like this soar to-day — 
Oh, woman is fierce when she gripes the prey ! 
No pity in robbing knoweth she — 
Then, hey for the battle and victory ! 

[Exeunt the two. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

On our left wing, as well may be foreseen, 
Their right will fiercely cast it. Then, I ween, 
A bloody fight 'twixt man and man will follow, 
To guard the narrow pass of yon dark hollow. 

FAUST, 

(pointing to the left.) 

Then, mighty sir, I pray, this man regard ! 
Strength cannot be too strong such posts to ward. 



FAUST. 



247 



hold itf ast {steps forward.) 

Ay, fear not thou the left's oppression ! 

Where I am, naught can change possession ; 

The old man dares the tempest's thunders, 

And where he stands no lightning sunders. [Exit. 

MEPHISTOPHELES, 

[descending from above.) 

Behold now from each gloomy cave, 

Like ghosts fresh starting from the grave, 

New-armed warriors quick ascend, 

And in a lengthened line extend, 

With sword, and shield, and armour storming, 

A martial wall behind us forming — 

See, our high orders they await. 

{Aside to the Initiated.)* 

Whence came they, I can scarce relate. 

Thus much, at least, is lightly seen, 

I have not slow or idle been. 

In subterranean armories, 

What hosts of warriors met my eyes ! 

There sat and stood they night and day, 

As if o'er earth they still held sway ; 

Once they were knights, and lords, and kings, 

Now only snail-shells, hollow, soulless things ; 

Full many a spectre now has donned such gear, 

To act the Middle Ages here. 

Whatever devils thus are decked, 

The host, at least, creates effect. 

{Aloud.) 

Hark ! how they rage for war and battle, 
Tin clattering 'gainst each other rattle ! 

* i. e., to the audience. 



248 



FAUST. 



There, too, float rags of banners proudly waving, 
Which lay below the breezes', greetings craving. 
Know here an ancient people starts to life, 
And fain would mingle in your modern strife. 

(Fearful trumpet-blast from above, in the foeman's army 
evident confusion.) 

FAUST. 

Darkness the wide horizon covers, 

But here and there still lingering hovers 

A gleam of wild, of lurid light ; 

The lances' points seem red and gory, 

The rock, the wood, the air before me — 

All float in strange and misty night. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Full boldly is our right wing raging ; 
As hacks the woodman branches pliant, 
Fights 'midst their host that lofty giant, 
Jack Boldinstrife, his foes engaging ! 

EMPEROR. 

Erst I beheld one arm upsoaring, 
And now a dozen wounds are scoring ; 
With Nature's aid this ne'er can be. 

FAUST. 

Hast never heard of lightsome vapours 
That near Sicilia play their capers ? 
There, in clear daylight, mortals see 
A wondrous vision, sight beguiling, 
Betwixt the skies and waters smiling, 
That elfin mirrors seems to be : 
There cities mount and sink so lightly, 



FAUST. 



249 



There gardens fade and beam so brightly, 
And all in all is mystery. 

EMPEROR. 

But, lo ! most wondrous ! Lightnings shining 
Start from the spears, their points entwining ; 
Upon our phalanx' warlike lances 
A host of flames most lightly dances ; 
Nay — all too spectral this, I deem. 

FAUST. 

Yon flames will follow my direction, 
Of perished sprites the dim reflection ; 
They call those Twins* to recollection, 
Of whom Greek seamen craved protection ; 
For the last time they now must beam. 

EMPEROR. 

But say ! — what power hath thus commanded. 

That Nature, all her forces banded, 

For us should work with strength supreme ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Who but that Lord of Art stupendous, 
Who lives for thee, and thee alone ? 
He saw with rage those hosts tremendous 
That dared to war against thy throne. 
Thee would he save, thee would he cherish, 
Though in the task himself should perish. 

EMPEROR. 

In pomp they hailed me Lord, a beardless youth, 
I felt my power, and wished to prove its truth, 
And thence, without much long reflecting, why, 
I set the greybeard free and bade him fly. 

* The Dioscuri— Castor and Pollux, 



250 



FAUST. 



The clergy of their pleasure I deprived, 
And thence no love in sooth from them derived. 
And now, when years have flown in this my need, 
I earn the harvest of the merry deed. 

FAUST. 

Kind actions bear full interest, sire. 
But lo ! look up to yon high heaven ! — 
This as a signal He* hath given, 
With joy perchance our hearts to fire. 

EMPEROR. 

An eagle soars in heights of air, 
A winged griffin meets him there. 

FAUST. 

Attend ! This augurs well at least, 
The griffin is a fabled beast ; 
How could he dare — base, odious wight ! 
To meet the eagle in the fight ? 

EMPEROR. 

Behold, in circles widely sweeping, 
They quickly near ; — together, lo ! 
At once they rush to meet the foe, 
The eagle flying, griffin leaping. 

FAUST. 

Now mark how that detested beast, 
The griffin, by wild valour greeted, 
Falls to the earth with speed increased, 
And sinks behind yon wood defeated. 



* i. e., the imagined sorcerer. 



FAUST. 



251 



EMPEROR. 

May this our happy fate unfold ! 
With wonder I the type behold. 

mephistopheles (gazing towards the right.) 

Lo ! before our troop's advances 
Vail the foes their pointed lances. 
Wildly pressing, fighting, flying 
Towards their right bewildered hieing, 
And by this uncraved intrusion 
Cause their central hosts confusion. 
See, our phalanx conflict waging, 
Wheels, like blasts of lightning raging. 
Left, where shews the foes commotion ; 
Now, like storm-tost waves of ocean 
Foaming, swords on hauberks rattle, 
Where the armies meet in battle ; 
Theme for aye of martial story, 
Ours the day, the fight, the glory ! 

EMPEROR. 

(On the left side of the tent to Faust.) 

Look ! things look not all too brightly ! 
Lost our posts may there be lightly. 
Not a stone our troops are throwing, 
And the foes, with valour glowing, 
Up the rocks are quickly springing— 
Ha ! the air with cries is ringing ! 
They have gained the pass, I fear me ! 
I shall rue my folly dearly, 
When*for Evil's aid I lusted 
And your powers of magic trusted. 

(Pause.) 



252 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

There come my ravens, quickly sailing ! 
I fear our means of strife are failing. 
What message may they bear me now ? 

EMPEROR. 

From yon high rock where carnage revels 

Fly those dark birds like winged devils : 

What message bear they? Whence and how ? 

mephistopheles ( to the Ravens.) 

Crouch near my eyes, ye heralds cherished ! 
Ne'er hath the man ye counselled perished, 
And I to work your pleasure vow. 

faust (to the Emperor.) 

No doubt men oft of doves have told thee, 
Who fly o'er land and ocean boldly, 
And roam to homes and nests afar ; 
This then to comprehend endeavour— 
The dove in Peace bears tidings ever, 
The raven is the scout of War. 

mephistopheles. 

My friends announce a sad disaster ; 
Behold ! still wilder, fiercer, faster, 
The foes yon rocky pass assail. 
The nearest heights are scaled already, 
And should our soldiers prove unsteady 
The post is lost ; then Danger, hail ! 

emperor. 

So, after all, I thus am cheated ! 
Thus through your arts am I defeated, 
I shudder at their magic net. 



FAUST. 



253 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Hope on ! all is not lost as yet, 
Patience and wit for this last danger ! 
Matters wax warm, yet boldly stand ; 
Each of my scouts to fear is stranger, 
Command that I may now command. 

CHIEF GENERAL. 

{Who in the meantime has approached.) 

With these hast thou thy arms united, 
I marked such union half affrighted — 
From Magic's wiles no joy can spring. 
Each moment more my hopes diminish, 
'Twas they commenced, so let them finish ; 
My staff to thee, O Sire, I bring. 

EMPEROR. 

No, keep it thou in peace or danger I 
Fortune perchance may change her mood. 
I shudder at this hideous stranger 
And his detested raven brood. 

(To Mepiiistophel.es.) 

This staff of fame and honour never 
May trusted be to thy dark sway 
Command ! — to save us all endeavour ! 
And fall the dice as fall they may. 

(Exit, into the tent with the chief general.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Well, be the staff his safe protector ! 
Without its aid am I director ; 
The cross too, on it, startled me. 



254 



FAUST. 



FAUST, 

What can be done ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Thou soon shall see ! — 
Now coal-black cousins, swiftness' queens, 
Haste to the mountain lake, where lurk Undines, 
And beg them for the shadow of their streams. 
By female arts that none divine, 
The shadow from the substance they untwine, 
And every man that shadow substance deems. 

(Pause.) 

FAUST. 

On those fair maids, who hold the lake's possession, 
Our ravens must have made a vast impression; 
Lo ! there already streams begin to flow. 
From many a barren cliff of yon high mountain 
Springs down with wildest speed some crystal fountain 
And see ! already shrinks the foe ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

That is a greeting strange indeed ! 
The boldest climbers stay their speed. 

FAUST. 

One brook swells other brooks with fury burning, 
Then from the clefts with double force returning— 
Behold ! one mighty stream descends : 
Now o'er the rocks it spreads in each direction, 
No height against its fall can grant protection ; 
And lo ! still downwards to the vales it tends. 
How vainly would they strive to stem the waters ! 
Down in their fury fly the mountain's daughters; 
Even I must shudder at their fearful course. 



FAUST. 



255 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Of all these watery lies I nothing see, 

But mortal eyes so lightly fooled can be ; 

Of fun a scene like this to me 's the source. 

See, there they run in crowds, there wildly bound, 

The boobies think they must be drowned, 

Although they snort on earth, still safe and sound, 

And haste half-swimming o'er the firm dry ground. 

Lo ! hasten in their trembling course 

Both beast and mortal, man and horse. 

[The ravens have returned again.) 

To the high Master your deserts I'll praise ; 

But if your fame ye still would higher raise, 

Then hasten to those vaults stupendous 

Where shoals of dwarfs, with zeal tremendous, 

Strike sparks from many a golden gem. 

Demand, with words of courteous seeming, 

A fire loud crackling, glaring, gleaming, 

Bright as a monarch's diadem. — 

True — lightning gleams, above the horizon playing, 

Bright stars, all swiftly from their orbits straying, 

These may, each sUmmer-night, be seen ; 

But gleams of lightning 'mid the brakes and bushes, 

And bright stars swiftly whizzing through the rushes, 

Are not such common sights, I ween. — 

This ask of each blithe treasure-warder ! 

First gently crave, then loudly order. 

[Ravens fly off.) 

[Mephistopheles' desires are carried into effect.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Dark shades around the foes are falling, 
A mystic night their souls appalling. 

Y 



256 



FAUST. 



Now wandering lights gleam brightly round them ; 
Strange tapers thus, affright, astound them. 

FAUST. 

The hollow armour from the vaults below, 
Here in free air, doth once more lively grow ; 
Above, their rattling tumult, strange to hear, 
Wild, hollow, startling tones — salute the ear. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

E'en so ! — Naught now can check their ardour, 

Still harder grow their blows, and harder, 

As in the dear old days they fight ; 

The arm-greaves and the leg-greaves raging, 

Like Guelphs and Ghibellines engaging, 

Renew their combats with delight. 

Their ancient feelings still maintaining 

They prove their enmities remaining 

And loudly ring their blows of might.-— 

Of all the aiders of the Devil 

There's no such useful friend of evil 

As party-hate and party-strife ! 

Lo ! wilder, stranger grows the panic, 

The tumult raves 'mid yells Satanic, 

And death and horror vanquish life. 

(Loud battle-strains resound from the band, changing at 
last, gradually, to lively military airs.) 



FAUST. 



257 



SCENE III. 

The Rival Emperor's tent richly decorated, a throne in 
the hack ground. (Quicktoseize, Hagforbooty.) 

HAGFORBOOTY. 

So after all the first are we ! 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

Than ravens faster far we flee. 

HAGFORBOOTY. 

Oh, what a store here smiling lies ! 
Now itch my hands, now glow my eyes. 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

The tent is crammed with riches ripe, 
I know not what I first should gripe. 

HAGFORBOOTY. 

This carpet were a prize I ween, 
'Twould make a couch to serve a Queen, 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

Yon scimitar doth brightly shine, 

I long have wished its like were mine. 

HAGFORBOOTY. 

This blood-red mantle trimmed with gold. 
Such sight in day-dreams I behold. 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

{Taking the weapon.} 

With such a friend I fear no foes, 
They all shall fall beneath its blows. 
y 2 



258 



FAUST. 



So long thou here hast plund'ring sacked, 
Yet nothing worth our pains hast packed. 
Leave thou yon rubbish where it lay, 
Bear one of yonder chests away ! 
Lo ! gleaming gold, bright prize for sin, 
The army's pay rests there within. 

HAGFORBOOTY. 

Oh, what a weight ! O woe ! O woe ! 
I cannot bear or lift it — oh ! 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

Come, quickly bend thee ! bend to grasp it ! 
Upon thy sturdy back I'll clasp it. 

HAGFORBOOTY. 

Oh, hellish woe ! — oh killing pain ! 
The load will break my spine in twain. 
(The chest falte,and springs open.) 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

There lies in heaps the ore divine — 
Quick ! grasp it, sieze it, make it thine ! 

hagforbooty (squatting down.) 
My lap shall shield the precious store, 
We yet shall get enough, and more. 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

Now haste to fly ! Thou know'st the goal. 

(She rises.) 
Within thy apron lurks a hole. 
O woe ! where'er thou stand'st or go'st, 
The golden treasures round thou sow'st. 

officers (of our Emperor enter.) 
What would ye here, that throne before ? 
How dare ye sieze the Emperor's store? 



FAUST. 



259 



QUICKTOSEIZE. 

Our limbs we waged in fight to day, 
And now we come to grasp our pay. 
Such plunder sanction War's old rules, 
And we are soldiers, friends, not fools. 

OFFICERS. 

Such friends to aid us need not we, 
At once who thieves and soldiers be ; 
And he who dares to swell our train, 
Must fight for glory, not for gain. 

QUICKTOSEIZE. 

'Tis all from Glory's hot desire 
That " Contribution" ye require ! 
We're all alike in peace or strife ; 
You cry like us — " Your gold or life !" 

(To Hagforbooty.) 

Away, and what thou hast, secure, 
We're here no welcome guests be sure. 

(Exit with her.) 

FIRST OFFICER. 

Say, why didst thou not straight bestow 
On that rough varlet a settling blow ? 

SECOND. 

I know not, wondering stood I there, 
So strange, so spectral, seemed the pair. 

third. 

Sure, something wondrous ailed my sight, 
I saw but dimly, as by night. 

FOURTH. 

Ay, all seems strange and wild, I ween ; 
How sultry all the day hath been ! 



260 



FAUST. 



Yet none the hidden cause could tell, 

One warrior stood, another fell ; 

So struck and stumbled high and low, 

The foemen fell at every blow ; 

A vapour swam before our eyes, 

Midst thunders, murmurs, wondrous cries ; 

Thus went the fight, here stand we now, 

Ourselves we know not whence or how. 

{Emperor and four Princes enter. The Officers retire.) 

EMPEROR. 

However this may be, 'tis we have gained the battle ! 
The foemen fly in fear, our drums in triumph rattle. 
Here stands the traitor's throne, here lies the rebel's store, 
Rich treasures, chests of gold, around, behind, before. 
Here will We now in state, by all our court surrounded, 
Receive our vassals trains in joy and pride unbounded. 
From every side at once glad news our ears regale, 
The realm is calmed once more, and Us as Lord doth hail. 
And if some juggling strange our victory have completed, 
Enough, the battle's won, the foemen are defeated ! 
All warriors in the strife may Chance uncalled for aid, 
Thus stones may rain or blood, thus mists the foe may" 
shade, 

Thus too from mountain caves may wondrous echoes 
thunder, 

That fill our souls with zeal, the foes with fear and 
wonder. 

Thus fell their vanquished host, or fled in wild dismay ; 
Now to the Powers above our grateful thanks we pay, 
And, lo ! without command, a million voices roaring 
The high " Te Deum" shout in unity upsoaring. 
But now this triumph past of joy and love and praise, 
Within my heart's recess in pious care I gaze. 



FAUST. 



261 



A young and lively Prince may pass the hours in 
pleasure, 

But taught by Time he soon will all his moments measure ; 
And therefore sans delay, with ye my toil and care 
For house and court and realm, brave Princes, will I 
share. 

(To the First.) 
'Twas thine, O Prince ! to choose our army's wise position, 
And by thy last attack to seal the foe's perdition ; 
In peace that aid afford which gentler hours may crave, 
Thy sword, Lord Marshal, now, as rod of office wave ! 

LORD MARSHAL. 

While thy brave warrior-host, thy Empire's frontiers 
guarding, 

All foemen's wild assaults from those fair realms are 
warding, 

Then be it my proud task, where crowds glad homage 
yield, 

In thy ancestral halls, thy feast to guard and shield ! 
The dish, like steel that gleams, I'll bear in pomp before 
thee, 

Thus proving by my zeal, how I, great Sire, adore thee. 

emperor (to the second.) 

He who has shewn him brave, yet courteous in the fight, 
Great Chamberlain shall be ; his task is not so light !— 
By thee, O friend, be all my household train directed ! 
When inward strife prevails, I find myself neglected ; 
Henceforth example be, to men of all degrees, 
How best the Monarch's self, his Court, and all to please. 

GREAT CHAMBERLAIN. 

Our Master's high desires to forward is judicious ; 
Such be my aim ! to aid the good and spare the vicious, 



26*2 



FAUST. 



Clear would I be sans guile, and quiet without deceit. 
Thy favouring glances, Sire, alone I crave to greet. 
Oh ! may bold Fantasy in future pleasures revel ? — 
When thou to table go'st, the basin bright and level, 
With purest rings of gold, I bring, and hope the while, 
That thou, refreshed and glad, perchance on me mayst 
smile. 

EMPEROR. 

Too solemn feel I now, to think on feasts of gladness, 
Yet be it as thou wilt in hours when past our sadness! 

(To the Third.) 

Be thou our table's steward ! So, henceforth to thee, 
Shall poultry, meat, and game, the larder, subject be, 
Do thou my. favourite fare of each revolving season 
Prepare with loyal care and check all pois'nous treason. 

LORD HTGH STEWARD. 

Ay, fasting most severe shall be my chief delight 
Until some dainty dish finds favour in thy sight. 
The kitchen's vassal train shall all with me endeavour 
To make ripe summer's stores thy tables deck for ever. 
More costly rarities thou leav'st to greedy knaves, 
Noble and simple fare is what thy palate craves. 

emperor (to the Fourth.) 

As, once for all, we now of naught but feasts are speaking, 
Young hero, we for thee some worthy post are seeking. 
Be thou Arch-Butler! see, that wines most costly still 
In vast, nay endless stores, our mighty cellars fill. 
But be thou moderate, and not seduced to madness, 
By opportunity, 'mid feasts of joyous gladness. 

ARCH-BUTLER. 

My Monarch, youth itself, when honoured by such trust, 
To thoughtful manhood grow, and thus wax sober, must. 



FAUST. 



263 



I too in fancy now at that rich feast am aiding — 
On the Imperial board, in pride and pomp parading 
A host of vessels bright that sparkle brilliantly, 
The brightest goblet then, O Sire, I choose for thee ; 
A clear Venetian glass, which makes poor wine a treasure, 
And by its power doth stay all evil " suites " of pleasure. 
On such a prize as this, man oft too much depends, 
But thy high temperance more surely thee defends. 

EMPEROR. 

All this in this great hour I granted, ye received it ! 
And, with due confidence in our high faith, believed it. 
The Emperor's word is great, and makes all gifts secure ; 
For confirmation, though, is craved our signature — 
Is craved our written deed. We need his kind direction, 
Who even now draws nigh, to bring this to perfection. 

(The Archbishop- Archchancellor enters.) 

When on the corner-stones the lofty vault is placed, 
Then is the house, indeed, with strength and beauty 
graced. 

Thou see'st four Princes here ! But erst have we directed 
Who for the highest posts at Court should be selected. 
But let the vast affairs of this, our mighty realm, 
To Five entrusted be, let Five direct its helm ! 
O'er lands shall these hold sway, all others' lands ex- 
ceeding, 

And I to them the states of our late foemen ceding, 
Will, with imperial grace, increase their might and power; 
To you, O faithful friends, I promise many a dower, 
Not only present lands, but right, unchecked, for ever 
Your frontiers to extend, yet not your states to sever. 
To you be't granted, then, each privilege to share 
Of which the soil's high lord alone can be the heir. 
The final sentence ye, as judges, shall deliver, 
Un vexed by loud appeals from each bold evil liver ; 



264 



FAUST. 



To you shall tribute, tax, aid, loan, and toll belong, 
Duties on salt, mines, coinage, levelled right or wrong. 
Thus of your faithful aid to prove my estimation, 
Next to high Majesty have I secured your station. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Receive our grateful thanks, for this, O Lord, we sue ! 
Thou strengthen'st us — and thus thyself dost strengthen 
too. 

EMPEROR. 

Still higher honours now, for ye five Lords I treasure. 
Still live I for my realm, and long would live with plea- 
sure ; 

But thoughts of sad mishaps that chanced in days no more, 
Urge me to check all ill that lies our path before. 
The time will come when I from all dear friends must 
sever ; 

My follower to name — this task be yours for ever ! 
Then let the chosen one be hailed your guiding star, 
And thus shall end in peace, what once was source of war. 

ARCHCHANCELLOR. 

All humble in their mien, true pride within them feeling, 
Bend Princes at thy feet, fidelity revealing. 
As long as through our veins the faithful blood doth roll, 
Are we the active arms, art thou the ruling soul. 

EMPEROR. 

And thus shall this, our will, at our own high dictation, 
Receive, through deed and writing, fitting confirmation ; 
Possession, unrestrained, is yours — yet, mark me well ! 
On this condition, ay — 'tis indivisible ; 
Though more extensive still, by purchase, ye may make it, 
Your eldest son alone, as rightful heir, can take it. 



FAUST. 



265 



ARCHCHANCELLOR. 

On parchment now, forthwith, I gladly will impress 
This statute, good for all, and good for us no less. 
My clerks shall draw and seal the deed for this high mea- 
sure ; 

Thou, sire, thy name wilt sign when best it suits thy plea- 
sure. 

EMPEROR. 

Thus I dismiss ye now, that each may ponder well 
On all those strange events which us to-day befel. 

( The Secular Princes.) 

THE ECCLESIASTIC 

(remains, and says, pathetically,) 
The Chancellor left thy tent, but still the Bishop tarries, 
Bound to reveal what fear to him, as rumour, carries. 
His fond, paternal heart, it throbs with care for thee ! 

EMPEROR. 

What fear'st thou, in this hour of gladness ? Candid be ! 

ARCHBISHOP. 

With what dark poignant grief, I find, alas, affrighted, 
Thy high and sacred head with Satan's powers united ! 
Thy crown, indeed, was saved, when almost sank our 
hopes, 

But, ah ! in Heaven's despite, and also in the Pope's. 
When he the tidings hears, he soon, thy crimes to batter, 
With sacred thunderbolts this sinful realm will shatter. 
For ne'er did he forget how thou, in impious glee, 
At Rome, when thou wast crowned, the conjuror didst 
free. 

From thy rich diadem, at season most unsuited, 

The first glad mercy-beam that head accursed saluted. 



266 



FAUST. 



But strike thy breast with zeal, and, from thy evil store, 
Give to the Sanctuary a modest tithe once more ; 
That broad and lofty hill, where erst thy tent was waving, 
Where evil spirits met, thy throne by magic saving, 
Where to the Prince of Lies thy eager ear was lent, 
This dedicate to Heaven, with wise and good intent ; 
Give, too, yon forests green, each hour fresh hues assum- 
ing ; 

Yon lovely mountain-meads, with flowers and pasture 
blooming ; 

Yon silvery lakes and streams, well stocked with finny 
stores, 

Of which each brook to this deep vale its waters pours ; 
And last, the vale itself, with meads, woods, rivers purest ; 
Thus is repentance proved — thus pardon thou securest. 

EMPEROR. 

By this most grievous fault I sorely am dismayed ; 
Then let the frontier-line by thee alone be made ! 

ARCHBJSHOP. 

First? then, let that dire spot, where such offence was 
given, 

Be forthwith set apart for special prayer to Heaven ! 
Already I the walls up-piled, in spirit, view, 
I see the sunbeams rest upon the chancel too ; 
The glorious building now the Cross's form hath taken, 
The nave still higher grows, good Christians' joy to 
waken ; 

Already through the gates they haste the shrine to hail; 
The bells, with mirthful peal, ring out o'er mount and 
vale, 

In yon high turrets placed, to heavenly spheres upsoaring, 
Even sinners join the throng, Heaven's mighty power 
adoring. 



FAUST. 



267 



The Consecration- day — soon this be't ours to see ! — 
By thy high presence, sire, will fittest honoured be. 

EMPEROR. 

May such a pious work reveal my good intentions — 
A sacred edifice of such sublime dimensions ! 
Enough ! I feel the thought with joy my spirit fire. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

A formal gift I now, as Chancellor, require. 

EMPEROR. 

A deed, for holy Church to guard this new-won treasure, 
Do thou forthwith prepare, and I will sign with pleasure. 

ARCHBISHOP 

(has taken his leave, but turns back as he is on the point of 
quitting the tent.) 

Then thou, at once, to this high work wilt dedicate 
The tributes of the land — tithe, tax, and toll, and rate, 
For ever. Much we need for worthy preservation, 
And heavy costs entails the fit administration. 
The quick erection first to forward, by thy aid, 
Gold from thy privy purse will piously be paid. 
Then, further, we require — I pray you, give attention ! — 
Large stores of wood, slate, lime, and things I need not 
mention. 

The people shall convey what you for us supply, 
All those our Church will bless, who toil her smiles to 
buy. [Exit. 

EMPEROR. 

My sin is great, and, ah ! most sad is my repentance ; 
For those cursed sorcerers I bear this heavy sentence. 



268 FAUST. 

ARCHBISHOP, 

(once more returning, with the humblest bow.) y 

Forgiveness, sire ! To that too all-suspected man 
The Empire's shores thou gavest ; but him the Church's 
ban 

Must punish, and but then her rigour she relaxes, 

If thou to her too there, dost grant tithes, tolls, and taxes. 

emperor [impatiently.) 
The land not yet exists, it lies beneath the waves. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

One of a patient mind, a right, though distant, craves ; 
Your word alone, we ask, for aught on earth or ocean ! 

EMPEROR (solus.) 

I next shall give my realm, to prove my true devotion. 

(The curtain falls.) 



END OF ACT IV. 



ACT THE FIFTH. 



THE 



Utat!) of dfaugt 



CHARACTERS INTRODUCED. 
FAUST. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 
LYNCEUS, THE TURRET WATCHER. 
WANDERER. 
PHILEMON. 
BAUCIS. 
WANT, \ 
CARE, 



FOUR GREY- HAIRED WOMEN, 



GUILT, 
NEED, J 

THE THREE MIGHTY ONES. 



DEVILS. 



CHARACTERS INTRODUCED. 



MATER GLORIOSA. 

UNA PCENITENTIUM, (ONCE MARGARET.) 
DOCTUS MARIANUS. 



PATER PROFUNDUS, r 

CHURCH. 

PATER SERAPHICUS,/ 
MAGNA PECCATRIX, (MARY MAGDALEN.) 
MULIER SAMARITANA. 
MARIA AEGYPTIACA. 
BLEST CHILDREN. 
ANGELS. 
ANACHORITES. 




FATHERS OF THE 



ACT THE FIFTH. 
€t)t mt&tt) of dfaugt* 



SCENE I. 

Open landscape. 

WANDERER. 

Yes, 'tis they, those lime-trees, smiling, 
Still in green old age they stand, 
Here once more my heart beguiling, 
As when first their forms I scanned. 
Still the ancient spot doth greet me, 
That old hut, which saved my life ; 
Where the billows bore me fleetly, 
On that night of ocean strife !— 
I would hail my hosts with gladness, 
That right active, worthy pair, 
But Time goes his round in sadness, 
They, perchance, no more know care. 
Oh, how good they were — how loving 
Shall I knock, or call ?— All hail ! 
If ye still on earth are roving, 
Good to work ye ne'er can fail. 



272 



FAUST. 



BAUCIS. 

(feeble^ and very old, coming from the cottage.) 

Speak not now, thou stranger lonely ! 
Or my husband sleeps no more.— 
To the old, can slumber only, 
Momentary strength restore. 

WANDERER. 

Art thou she, O gentle mother, 
Who my thanks so well didst earn ? 
Who didst tend me as a brother, 
With thy consort, turn by turn ? 
Art thou Baucis, she who gravely 
O'er me bent with saving food ? 

(The husband enters.) 

Thou, Philemon, who so bravely 
Bor'st my treasure from the flood ? - 
Then your beacon fires were gleaming, 
Then rang out your silvery bell ; 
Ye, as naught your danger deeming, 
Saved me from that tempest fell. 

And now feel I onwards driven, 
O'er yon boundless main to gaze; 
Let me kneel, and pray to Heaven, 
For my heart is filled with praise. 
(He steps forward on the cliff.) 

philemon (to Baucis.) 

Spread our meal those elm trees under 
Where the garden draws the bees. 
Let him stand and gaze in wonder, 
For he knows not what he sees. 

(Following him.) 



FAUST. 



273 



PHILEMON. 

(Standing beside the Wanderer.) 

That which once did fiercely treat ye, 
Raging, roaring, wave on wave, 
Now as garden bright doth greet ye, 
Fairest sight that eye may crave. 
Older waxed I, ever older, 
Not as once prepared to aid ; 
And, as my quick blood grew colder, 
Yonder waves to fly were made. 
Lords began what vassals finished, 
Dikes they dug with active glee ; 
And the sea's domain diminished, 
Masters in his stead to be. 
See yon meads the soft dews drinking, 
Gaze on vale and village fair ; 
But the sun to rest is sinking, 
Come, then, come, our meal to share.— 
Lo ! afar gleam sails so brightly 1 
Towards yon distant port they rove. — 
Fly not birds, at evening, lightly 
To the nests and homes they love ? — 
Thus thou see'st, so gently dreaming, 
Far from here the azure main ; 
Wood and vale before thee beaming, 
Peopled by an active train. 



•274 



FAUST. 



SCENE II. 

(In the garden. The three seated at the table.) 
baucis (to the stranger.) 

Still so dumb, these old trees under ? 
Eat'st thou naught ? Why treat us so ? 

PHILEMON. 

More he'd know of yon strange wonder ; 
Speak ! — to speaking thou'rt no foe ! 

BAUCIS. 

Ay, a wonder, most undoubted ! 
And it worms within me still ; 
Though you oft my fears havs scouted, 
'Twas not right, say what you will. 

PHILEMON. 

Can the Emperor sin, who proudly 
Gave the ocean shores to him ? 
Cried not this the herald loudly, 
When he past in armour grim ? 
Near our cliffs these daring strangers 
First in tents their task did ply ; 
But ere long, despite all dangers, 
They a Palace raised on high. 

BAUCIS. 

But the vassals soon discovered 
Naught their daily toil had won ; 
Where by night the light flames hovered. 
Stood a dike when dawned the sun. 
Victims shrieked 'mid Night's commotion, 
Cries of anguish echoed round ; 



FAUST. 



275 



Fury billows flowed towards ocean, 
Yon canal the morning found. 
Impious is he, lusts Satanic 
Make him crave our hut, our bower ; 
All he rules with power tyrannic, 
All before him trembling; cower. 

PHILEMON. 

If we here would let him dally, 
Said he not we much should gain ? 

BAUCIS. 

Trust not thou the ocean-valley, 
On thy ancient heights remain. 

PHILEMON. 

To the Chapel pass we slowly ! 
There to view the sun's last ray ; 
Still he guards us ! He, the Holy ! 
Let us ring, and kneel, and pray. 

SCENE III. 

{Palace, A vast and blooming garden before it, through 
which passes a broad and clear Canal. 

faust [extremely aged, ivanders, lost in thought.) 

LYNCEUS, THE TURRET-WATCHER. 

(Through his speaking tube.) 

Lo ! sinks the sun, their pennants rearing 
All lingering ships the harbour hail. 
A beauteous vessel too is nearing, 
That up yon clear canal will saih 



276 



FAUST. 



Her gallant flags are waving proudly, 
Her lofty masts like warriors frown ; 
Thy crew, fair bark, will praise thee loudly, 
And glory's mead their toils shall crown 1 

(The bells ring on the cliffs behind.) 
faust (starting.) 

Accursed ringing ! Thus it tore me 
From reverie's dreams, time out of mind ; 
True, boundless spreads my realm before me, 
But still this nuisance lurks behind, 
Reminds me still in accents galling 
That I have weighty cause to pine. 
That lime-grove sere, that cot half falling, 
That crumbling chapel, are not mine. 
And if I there would rest me gladly 
Those stranger inmates linger near ; 
Their sight, their presence galls me madly ! 
Oh, were I far away from here ! 

TURRET- WATCHER (as above.) 

How gaily doth the vessel fair, 
By breezes speeded, hither bear ! 
How brightly shines the treasure-pile 
That on its crowded deck doth smile ! 

(A magnificent bark arrives , laden with all rich and 
lovely products of most distant climes.) 

(mephistopheles. the three mighty ones.) 

CHORUS. 

O'er ocean's waves 
We hither sail. 
Be greeted, Master, 
Hail, all hail ! 
( They leave the vessel, the goods are brought on land.) 



FAUST. 



277 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Thus have we proved our zeal and fire, 

And now our Patron's praise require. 

We sailed away with vessels twain, 

With twenty we return again. 

What mighty things 'twas ours to do 

Our cargo soon shall bring to view. — 

The free blue ocean frees the mind, 

There reverie's dreams are left behind, 

By grasping there to wealth you skip, 

First catch a fish, then catch a ship, 

And when o'er vessels three you rule, 

A fourth you soon to duty school ; 

The fifth would vainly fly your sight, 

And he who's strong, is ever right. 

How this we gain, that care not we ; 

'Tis gained ! All doubts are deemed faint-hearted : 

War, Commerce, and bold Piracy, 

A triad form, shall ne'er be parted. 

THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES. 

No word of praise ! 
Of thanks no word ! 
As brought we naught 
To please our Lord ! 
He makes a dark, 
A frowning face ; 
From him our stores 
Win little grace. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Expect no further 
Praise and pay ; 
Your share ye long have 
Borne away. 



•278 



FAUST. 



THE COMRADES. 

That took we but 
To banish care; 
We all expect an 
Equal share. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Well, range in care and 
Order, all 

Yon costly treasures 
In the hall ; 
And when he comes 
The sight to see, 
He'll gaze upon it, 
Perchance, with glee ; 
And doubt not, then, 
That he should fail, 
The fleet with gladsome 
Feasts to hail. 

The birds we caught, will come to-morrow — 
Their warbling notes will banish sorrow. 

{The cargo is borne away.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES (to FaUSt.) 

With gloomy gaze, and solemn brow, 
Thy fortunes fair thou greetest now. 
Lo, Wisdom's goal, at last, is won, 
And all ends well, that well begun ! 
Thy vessels leave the conquered shore, 
And seek the main, that chafes no more ; 
From here, where first the attempt took birth, 
Thy arm can reach all realms of earth. 
Here, where thy palace awes the flood, 
The first rude hut of timber stood ; 



FAUST. 



279 



A little grave was sunk, 1 ween, 
Where now yon oars are plying seen. 
Thy own high will, thy vassals' zeal, 
Made sea and earth thy empire feel. 
From here alone 

FAUST. 

Accursed <s here ! " 
This word it is which wounds mine ear. 
My torment, friend, thou now shalt share it ; 
Vexation makes me wan and pale, 
I cannot, may not, longer bear it ! 
And yet, I shame to tell the tale. 
An aged pair, my soul distressing, 
Refuse to cede the heights above ; 
Those lime-trees, not as mine possessing, 
No realms my soul to joy can move. 
There, all to view, below, around me, 
Should scaffolding in pride surround me, 
From branch to branch suspended high, 
Whence all my labour I could eye, 
And view, in that triumphant hour, 
This masterpiece of human power, 
By which 1 nations food afford, 
Free tenants of a gentle lord. 

In wealth we thus are ever pained, 
Still craving that we have not gained. 
The lime-trees' scent, the bell's deep tone, 
Dark shades of grief have o'er me thrown. 
That Will, which mightiest tasks hath planned, 
Those cliffs can check, of crumbling sand. 
When shall I ever know true gladness ? 
I hear yon bell, and rave in madness. 

A A 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Of course, some cause for wild distress 
Must ever cross thy happiness. 
Nay, who denies ? Such tinkling noise 
Should mar a noble spirit's joys ! — 
And ding-dong-bell, that peal detested, 
Still heard when earth at eve hath rested, 
Rings on for times no tongue can number — 
When first you wake, when last you slumber, 
As if, between its ding and dong, 
Life were a dream, however long. 

FAUST. 

This stubbornness, this wild caprice, 
Has marred my being's joy and peace ; 
So that, at last, in painful ire, 
Of Justice' self I 'gin to tire. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Why scruple, to thy own vexation ? 
Place this old pair 'midst thy new nation ! 

FAUST. 

So be it ! Go, then, bear them thither ; 
Thou know'st the spot, that rural gem 
That I have set apart for them. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Quick, as the fancies of a poet, 
I'll waft them thither, e'er they know it ; 
And for all fears that feel they may, 
Their new fair dwelling shall repay. 

(He whistles in a piercing tone.) 

(The Three re-enter.) 



FAUST. 



281 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Come ! work the Master's will with glee ; 
To-morrow, yours a feast shall be. 

THE THREE. 

Yon aged sir received us ill, 
But, at his feast, rejoice we will. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

(Ad Spectator es.) 

An ancient tale I here, too, find, 
For well I Naboth's vineyard mind. 



SCENE IV. 

(Another view of the Palace. On the right is Lynceus on 
the summit of his loatch-tower ; below, a balcony, look- 
ing towards the cliffs, cottage, chapel, Sfc. — Night.) 

LYNCEUS, THE TURRET-WATCHER, (singing.) 

For seeing created, 
To spying inclined, 
Me Nature hath fated 
To watch for the blind. 
The stars beaming brightly 
With joy I behold, 
And deer bounding lightly 
Through forests of old. 
Thus glory and beauty 
Around me I see, 
And deem 'tis my duty 
Right joyous to be. 

B B 



282 



FAUST. 



Ye eyes brightly glancing 
Your pleasures I share ; 
All sights ye have gazed on 
Were noble and fair. 

(Pause.) 
Woe ! not only to delight me 
Am I stationed here on high ; 
Lo ! a fearful sight doth fright me — 
Death and horror now are nigh. 
Sparks of fire, I mark them streaming, 
Through the lime-trees' gloomy night ; 
Fanned by zephyrs, red flames gleaming. 
Soar on high to blast and blight. 
Ah ! it burns, that cot so humble, 
Roofed by moss, by woodbine shaded ; 
Soon its walls, consumed, will crumble, 
Soon its inmates sink unaided. 
Yes 1 that pious pair, together 
Which did long their watch-fire cherish. 
Through the nights of stormy weather, 
Must by fire together perish. 
Higher mount the flames, and wave them 
O'er the hut in triumph soaring : 
Could that gentle pair but save them 
From the hell around them roaring S 
See ! the fire its heralds launches 
On the leaves, the boughs, the branches — ■ 
Flames that lightly there entwine them. 
Ha ! a mass of branches fall ; 
Crackling all the trees incline them, 
And new horrors sight enthral. 
Lo ! the chapel bursts asunder, 
By the sinking lime-trees crushed ; 
O'er the spires, the old eaves under, 
Flames like ocean waves have gushed. 



FAUST. 



All the lime-trees' trunks, now hollow, 
Gleam from fires within that burn. 

( Long pause, chanting. ) 

All things ruin's mandates follow — 
Life and light to dust return. 

faust, {issuing on the balcony.) 

What whining chant through air is stealing? 

My warder mourns yon dire event. 

I, too, some qualms of conscience feeling, 

My all too hasty deed repent. 

Yet let the shady lime-trees perish ! 

There shall I gain, and swiftly, too, 

A point, whence all the realms I cherish 

My vast creation I may view. 

The home, too, that I erst erected 

For this old pair I thence shall see, 

Where they, by my kind grace protected, 

Shall in their age right happy be. 

MEPHISTOPHELES and THE THREE. 

{Below ', before the Palace.) 

Behold we come with hasty speed 
Forgive ! not peaceful was the deed. 
We knocked and stormed the hut before, 
Yet none oped the bolted door ; no one 
And still we shook and knocked again, 
Until we burst that door in twain ; 
Then loudly called we, (i Hence ! away !" 
But they would no attention pay. 
And, as right oft the case will be, 
They could not hear, they would not see ; 
We, then, not wishing long delay 7 
Right quickly swept them from thy way. 

BB 2 



FAUST. 



The old ones felt but little pain, 
They sank to earth, by terror slain. 
A stranger, who our strength would test 
By fighting, soon we put to rest ; 
And during this short time of strife, 
Some coals, with fire and ruin rife, 
Inflamed the straw. It glares, you see, 
The gleaming bonfire of the Three. 

FAUST. 

Base slaves, by hate to carnage fired ! 
Exchange, not robbery, I desired. 
This cursed deed, of blackest hue, 
I loathe it ! Rest the shame on you ! 

chorus. 

The ancient proverb chants for aye ; 
Superior force forthwith obey ! 
And art thou bold, and dar'st the strife ? 
Then venture house, and home, and — life. 

[Exeunt, 

faust, (still on the balcony.) 
The stars their beams 'neath storm-clouds shade, 
The red fire sinks in yonder glade ; 
A strange, cold breeze, doth round me sigh, 
And mist and vapour hover nigh. 
Oh, deed of Death ! the echoes cry — 
What shadowy beings hither fly ? 

(.Midnight. — Four grey-haired women appear.) 

FIRST. 

Lo ! Want speeds her hither. 

second. 

Lo ! Guilt rides the wind. 



FAUST. 285 
THIRD. 

Lo ! Care follows after. 

FOURTH. 

Lo ! Need comes behind. 

three together. 

See, closed is the portal, no entrance may be ; 
Within dwells a rich man — here enter not we ! 

WANT. 

There fade I in darkness. 

GUILT. 

There lose I my power. 

NEED. 

Upon me the spoilt ones in irony lower. 

CARE. 

Ye sisters, no entrance for ye shall there be, 

But Care through the key-hole so lightly doth flee. 

(care vanishes,) 

WANT. 

Ye grey-haired companions, haste swiftly away ! 

GUILT. 

Still thee will I follow through night and through day. 

NEED. 

Still near ye and round ye will I draw my breath. 

THE THREE. 

Stars hide in the ether, clouds meet in commotion ! 
From far o'er the meadows, from far o'er the ocean, 
There comes he, our brother, there comes he, cold — 

Death — 



286 



FAUST. 



SCENE V. 
{Chamber within the Palace.) 

FAUST. 

Four saw I come, three only go ; 

To speak they seemed, but what I might not know. 

Something I heard of — drawing breath, 

A rhyme-word gloomy followed — Death. 

It sounded deep, with spectral horror fraught. 

In vain as yet have I for freedom fought ; 

Could I enchantment from my pathway banish, 

And cause all magic spells all charms to vanish : 

Stood I before thee, Nature ! poor, but free, 

Then were it worth my pains a Man to be. 

That, was I once, e'er I, in darkness lost, 

Sought impious power, whate'er that power might cost. 

Now is all air with spectres so alive, 

That I their sight to shun would vainly strive. 

Nay, if one day of reason sheds its light, 

With dreamy mists again returns the night ; 

When o'er the vernal mead at morn I go, 

A hoarse bird croaks. What croaks he ? — Future woe. 

By superstition pressed and hemmed around, 

A token comes — a sign — a warning sound ; 

And thus we stand alone oppressed by fears: 

The portal jars — and yet no form appears ? 

(Shuddering. 
Is something there ? 

CARE. 

Such question craves reply. 



FAUST. 



287 



FAUST. 

And thou, who art thou, then ? 

CARE. 

Enough — tis I ! 

FAUST. 

Away, I charge thee ! 

CARE. 

No, I here am well. 

FAUST. 

(At first enraged — afterwards, having moderated his 
anger, aside.) 

Be not too hasty ; breathe nor charm nor spell. 

CARE. 

If no ear would list or mind me. 
In the heart ye still should find me ; 
Still in ever-changing form, 
Now I whisper, then I storm. 
O'er the earth, and o'er the ocean, 
Gliding fast in rapid motion ; 
Ever found, yet never sought, 
Fearing all, and hoping naught. 
Did'st never feel the power of Care ? 

FAUST. 

For that had I no time to spare. 

I have but run through life and grasped its pleasures. 

But seized and spent its choicest treasures. 

And turned away to look for more. 

Desired have I, and then forthwith performed, 

And wished again, and thus still wildly stormed, 



288 



FAUST. 



With tempest force through life ; first great and wild ; 

Now is my course more slow, and I more mild. 

Earth and its joys full well I know, I ween ; 

Beyond them naught by mortals may be seen. 

By long <tf star-gazing" man but blinds his eyes, 

And dreams his image lives above the skies. 

Here let him stand, and shun all vapours dim, 

And this, our earth, will not be dumb for him ! 

What needs he seek eternal mysteries ? 

What he conceives, he here can seize. 

So let him wander through his earthly day, 

And, when sprites hover round him, hold his way ; 

Thus meets he joy and woe in ceaseless change, 

And uncontented still from spot to spot may range. 

CARE. 

When my spells a mortal weary, 
All the earth to him seems dreary ; 
Life and light he worthless prizes, 
Never sinks his sun or rises ; 
And with perfect outward senses, 
Woe's deep shade his spirit fences ; 
So that he, such chains have bound him, 
Seeks not for the treasures round him. 
Thus caprice in anguish tears him, 
And in plenty famine scares him ; 
Whether wooed by joy or sorrow, 
Still he leaves it till the morrow, 
And remains for ever lonely, 
Dwelling in the Future only. 

FAUST. 

Enough ! thou canst not wile me thus. 
To hear such silly nonsense grieves me ! 



FAUST. 



289 



Though man, at thy command, fume, fret, and fuss, 
Naught so absurd, as thou, deceives me. 

CARE. 

Shall he stand? — or shall he wander? 
Still his thoughts in doubt meander; 
Though his course o'er broad roads steering, 
Still he creeps, morasses fearing. 
Vales below seem ever deeper, 
Heights wax steeper still and steeper. 
Fearing all he ever hated, 
'Midst wild breezes suffocated, 
Taking naught, and nothing giving, 
Neither wholly dead nor living ; 
Thus he aye is doomed to languish, 
Acts, in torment, bears in anguish, 
And his chains for ever making, 
Wakes in sleeping, sleeps in waking. 
Thus he lives in doubt and sorrow, 
Fearing hell each coming morrow. 

FAUST. 

Accursed spectres ! Thus ten thousand times 

Have ye our mortal race in rancour treated ; 

Their very virtues deem your subjects crimes, 

And in most peaceful days by storms are greeted. 

Demons, I know, 'tis hard to drive away, 

Their empire o'er the soul appears eternal ; 

But, Care, though endless crowds should own thy sway, 

I laugh to scorn its power infernal. 

CARE. 

Feel it ! whilst thus I chant Fate's song, 
Keen eyes of hate upon thee bending ; 



290 



FAUST. 



Most men are blind their whole lives long — 
Blind, Faust, be thou, now life is ending ! 

(She breathes on him.) 

faust, (blinded.) 

Deep, ever deeper night, I seem to greet ; 

Yet beaming light within, my soul inspires. 

What I conceived, I hasten to complete, 

The master's word alone to labour fires. 

Ye vassals, wake ! — no loiterer lurk behind ! 

Do ye perform what boldly I designed. 

Seize on your work-tools, rake and spade employing ! 

Labour with zeal, that labour's self enjoying. 

Firm order, industry untired, 

The prize secure by all desired ; 

To work this task of joy and pride, 

One head a thousand hands can guide. 



SCENE VI. 

Grand Court of the Palace. — Labourers bearing Torches. 
mephistopheles, (as inspector, goes before them.) 

Approach, approach ! Draw nigh, draw nigh ! 

Lemures, spectral creatures, 

Ye forms of bone and sinews dry, 

With leathern scraps for features. 

lemures, (in chorus.) 

We haste forthwith to shew our skill. 
And, as they erst have told us, 
A mighty land we here should till, 
And therefore here behold us. 



FAUST. 



291 



See, painted stakes we hither brought. 
And chains the space to measure ; 
Thy presence have we swiftly sought, 
And come to work thy pleasure. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

But little skill ye need to shew ; 

Your measures in yourselves be found ! 

Here lay the tallest of ye low, 

And let the others dig the earth around ; 

An oblong square be hollowed here, 

Such as received our fathers dear ! 

The palace and the narrow house — 

Men leave the first, and in the second souse. 

lemures, (digging, with droll gestures.) 

In youth, when I did live, did love, 
Methought it was very sweet ; 
Where music played, and dancers roved, 
There scrambled my nimble feet. 

Now Age, with his stealing steps, 
Hath maimed me by his crutch; 
And I stumbled into my grave — 
Oh ! why did it yawn so much ? 

faust, {issuing from the -palace s stands holding by 
the gate-posts.) 

This sound of clashing spades delights my soul ; 
My vassals here perform their duty. 
Heighten by art earth's pristine beauty, 
And thus drive back — thrice worthy goal ! — - 
Yon foaming ocean towards the icy Pole. 



FAUST. 

-a 

MEPHISTOPHELESj (aside.') 

Soon will the hour of ruin toll 

For these thy dikes, thy ocean fences ; 

Old Neptune, whom such gear incenses, 

The Water-devil, soon will rise. 

'Tis so ! and idle's all repining ; — 

Now arm the elements with us combining, 

And dark destruction round thee flies. 

FAUST. 

Inspector ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Here ! 

FAUST. 

Vast crowds of workmen hire, 
Strangers from far, and each near neighbour; 
Pay well, and see that well they labour, 
Their hearts with zeal and force inspire ! 
Each day at morn, when beams the day-god lances, 
I crave to know how fast our trench advances. 

mephistopheles, (half aside.) 

Men speak, oppressed by wondrous gloom, 
Naught of a trench, much of a — tomb. 

FAUST. 

A marsh below yon mountain lies, 

Its poisonous breath my subjects slaughters; 

This were our labour's noblest prize — 

That bog to sink in ocean's waters. 

Then shall full space for millions opened be 

To dwell, not safe indeed, but bold and free. 



FAUST. 



293 



Green be the meads, and fertile ! Man and beast 

On this new earth's fair fruits alike shall feast. 

And thus, behind yon dikes that proudly swell, 

A brave, industrious race shall ever dwell. 

Within, a land like Paradise will soar, 

Without, the waves assail Art's lofty shore ; 

And should a billow e'er the mastery gain, 

All crowd to raise the wall and check the main. 

Ay ! my soul joys it in this peaceful strife, 

The goal at last it seeks aright; 

But he deserves his freedom and his life 

Who daily shields them in the fight. 

And thus by dangers round environed still, 

Doth man through youth and age his course fulfil. 

This crave I only, face to face, 

On such free earth to mark a free-born race. 

Then could I to the moment say — 

On, linger — thou indeed art fair ! 

This monument of my brief earthly day 

Shall time for endless ages spare. — 

Foreseeing, feeling, proudly hailing this, 

I know, e'en now, the highest earthly bliss. 

(faust sinks hack ; the lemures receive him in their 
arms, and lay him on the earth.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Him can no joy content, no goal restrain, 
Each string on Fate's wild lyre he seeks to finger ; 
This last poor empty moment, void and vain, 
The hapless wretch would force to linger. 
Mark him who dared my power oppose ! 
Vanquished by time at last deep rest he knows. 
The clock stands still 



FAUST. 



CHORUS. 

Stands still! their course the hours have run. 

Lo ! falls the hand. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

It falls! The goal is won. 

CHORUS. 

'Tis past for aye ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

'Tis past ? A senseless word ! 

How past for aye ? 

Deem ye all life a dream, creation bootless play ? 
What ! should we work with long laborious stress. 
To cast our labour's mede to nothingness ? 
And so " ? Tis past for aye !" Vile, senseless folly 
What ! love and hate, and joy and melancholy, 
In endless circles, turning nought to gain ! 
Rather should soulless void for ever reign. 

(Burial.) 

LEMUR, (solo.) 

Who hath the house so badly made 
So fine a guest to greet? 

le mures, (chorus.) 

A clay-pit dug by axe and spade 
Is fit for a winding-sheet. 

lemur, (solo.) 

Why have ye furnished so badly the hall ? 
Where tables and chairs have ye laid ? 



FAUST. 



29 



lemures, {chorus.) 

Oh ! they are seized and scattered all, 
For creditors must be paid. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The body lies ! When soars the soul to-day, 
I'll shew the bond, by which as mine 'tis bound ; 
But, ah ! so many means have now been found 
To steal the devil's souls away. 
Those good old days for aye are flown 
When of my rights I quickly master made me ; 
Then I had done such task as this alone, 
Now I must call my friends to aid me. 

The times with us in truth are bad ! 

Our most time-honoured dues may scarce be had ; 

There's nothing now that can be trusted. 

Once when man breathed his last, the soul flew out, 

And I, still prowling watchfully about, 

Did seize w 7 ith glee the prize for which I lusted. 

Now it delays, in that dark, dismal place, 

The corse's gloomy house, to lurk delighting. 

The elements, there wildly fighting, 

At last eject it from its loathsome case ; 

But when it thus will be constrained to wander, 

And hov), and where, — on this 'tis vain to ponder. 

Old Death himself has lost his power I wot, 

Right long we doubt if Death be there or not ; 

Oft have I marked with glee the cold, stiff members ; 

'Twas all a sham ! reviving, soon crackled life's embers 

[Fantastic wildly agile gestures of conjuration.) 

Approach, approach ! obey my powerful spell ! 
Ye lords of straight, of crooked horns, haste hither : 



296 



FAUST. 



Ye whose steel nerves no heat can wither, — 
And bring your fiery region 9 s gulf as well. 
'Tis true, that realm in many throats can glory, 
Each destined for its class or high or low ; 
Bring up the best ! This man was great in story, 
And to his manes this respect we owe. 

{The fearful abyss opens itself on the left.) 

Earth's wise teeth burst asunder ; from the centre 
Rush up the flames in furious ire. 
Far down, where yet this hour I trust to enter, 
I mark the city of eternal fire. 

The fierce red ocean, lo! in wildest hate is dancing, 
The lost ones, vainly hoping, o'er it swim ; 
A nameless worm its form around them lancing, 
Consumes their flesh, and rends each tortured limb. 
Much more there is for tongues too dire to tell, 
Horrors unspeakable that fiercely gleam ! — 
Ay, sinners warn ! I like such warnings well ; 
Still Man believes the dire " To come," a dream. 

( To the thick demons, with the short, straight horns.) 

Ye fat-ribbed rascals, with your cheeks all flaming, 

Full well do ye reflect those realms below ; 

With thick club necks, oak trunks in hardness shaming, 

Watch ye on earth, till some strange light doth glow. 

That is the soul, bright Psyche borne on high, 

Tear off her wings a hideous worm remains ; 

Then with my seal my victim claim will I, 

And haste in tempests where Perdition reigns. 

Watch ye your central realm with care, 
Ye leathern bags, strange forms of night ; 
Perchance the soul may linger there, 
We can't be sure to guess aright. 



FAUST. 



297 



She haunts the navel's central spot, 

Take heed that issuing there she 'scape ye not. 

(To the tall devils, with long, crooked horns.) 
Ye flighty varlets, agile shapes gigantic, 
Grasp ye the air, still groping towards the skies ; 
Extend your arms and claws, cease each light antic, 
And if she mounts, secure the flying prize. 
She cannot linger in that corse much more, 
And genius, as ye know, is apt to soar. 

(Rays of glory from above on the right.) 

HEAVENLY ARMY. 

Follow, O follow, 

Through space, drear, and hollow, 

Follow our flight ! 

Sinful ones shriving, 

Cold dust reviving, 

Virtue and beauty 

Still calling to duty. 

Faithfully striving 

To vanquish sin's night. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Most odious tones I hear, detested bawling ! 
From yonder skies with beams accursed they near, 
In strange, half- boyish girlish accents squalling 
Such as your pious souls delight to hear. 
Ye know how we, in hours of thought infernal, 
Conceived the ruin of this mortal race ; 
Whome'er we harm, these spies from spheres eternal, 
Rejoice, if we but seal our own disgrace. 
Vile brood, as false as they are fair ! 
Full oft they robbed me of some noble prize ; 
With our own weapons they to meet us dare — 
True devils, though in angel's guise. 

c c 



298 



FAUST. 



To be defeated here would work us shame — 

Press round the grave ! Stand firm in Glory's name ! 

chorus of angels, {scattering roses.) 

Roses so frail and fair, 
Wafting sweet scents through air, 
Ye, with strange magic rife, 
Waking the tranced to life, 
Still on light zephyrs borne, 
Beaming like smiles of morn, 
Haste ye to bloom. 

Spring, banish sadness ! 
Smile thou at gloom ; 
Quickly with gladness 
Yon sleeper illume. 

mephistopheles, (to the fiends.) 

Why bob and stoop ye? Shew ye valour thus ? 
Stand firm, and let them cast their roses ! 
What ! would they so encounter us ? 
Think they, forsooth, with such -like fragrant posies, 
To scorch the fiery devils' noses ? 
Such blossoms shrink before your lips' hot buss ! 
Come, blow them, fierybreaths ! Enough ! — no more ! 
More wildly still they dart, they rush, they soar; 
Work not so fiercely ! — close both mouth and nose ! 
Each of ye, fiends, too wildly blows. 
'Tis strange ye ne'er your rightful bounds discern ! 
These flowers not only shrink — they fade, they dry, they 
burn ! 

Lo ! now the fire strange flames towards us lances ; 
Stand, firmly stand, and check its fierce advances ! — 
Their strength departs ! their fears still keener grow ! 
The devils feel a strange, half-pleasing glow ! 



FAUST. 



ANGELS. 

As those they hail may be, 
These flowers eternally 
All things to love's desire 
Evil or good inspire, 
All own their sway. 
Kind favour granting, 
Pure ether haunting, 
Smiling and chanting, 
We greet the day ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Oh, shame ! What boots my loud commanding ? 

Lo, Satans on their heads are standing ! 

Those thick ones roll and roll away, 

Then down the gulf they plunge ! — -Damnation ! 

Well, roar within its fiery waves, for aye ! 

Here firmly / will keep my station. 

( Warding off the roses hovering around him.) 

Will-of-the-wisps, avaunt ! Howe'er ye shine, 
When seised, ye prove mere clods of mud and brine. 
Ye tease me ! Hence, ye idle pack ! — 
They stick like pitch and brimstone to my back. 

angels, (chorus.) 

Red fire from water 
Must hasten to fly ; 
Wildly speeds slaughter 
When sweet peace is nigh. 
Thus, as we nearer press. 
Ye shall feel sore distress ; 
Love in its essence, 
Naught evil can bless ! 
c c 2 



FAUST. 



MEPHISTOPHELES. 

My heart, my head, my very liver burn — 
Harsh Fate ! I know not where to turn ; 
The element around is worse than hell. 
What heat ! Thus, struck by passion's spell, 
Ye lovers mourn, who gaze, though all betrayed, 
Against your wills upon the faithless maid. 

And I !— What draws my head towards that side? 
What ! would I, Devil, woo an Angel bride ? 
Whene'er I saw their forms, those forms I hated. 
And now — what ! Are my senses clean belated ? 
Now I should joy to be with angels mated ! — 
They look like maids in beauty glorified. 
And if I let them thus deceive me, 
Who shall henceforth be called the fool ? — 
Those who would pain, and wrong, and grieve me 
I can but love — a senseless passion's tool! 

Ye charming children, speak, I pray ye : 

Oh ! are ye not of noble Satan's race ? 

Ye seem so fair ! In gentler smiles array ye, 

And be my arms your resting-place ! 

I feel so strange, so all-delighted — 

I must have seen, have known ye years ago ; 

Like some poor cat, by passion spited, 

I moan and pine — your charms still brighter glow, 

And tempt me onwards to my joy, my woe ! 

ANGELS. 

We come, we come ! — oh, wherefore dost thou go ? 
Behold ! we near thee — if thou canst, remain ! 

( The Angels, approaching in circular array r , Jill the 
entire space around the corse.) 



FAUST. 



mephistopheles, {who is compelled to retreat to the 
proscenium.) 

Ye call us fiends ! but what are ye ? 

Wild witches, versed in sorcery ; 

For ye enkindle eager passion's pain. 

Oh, cursed adventure ! — Powers above ! 

Is this the element of love ? 

My body flames, my neck is all on fire — 

Oh, hell ! shall thus thy faithful friend expire ? — 

Around, around ye whirl ! Oh, pause, descend ! 

And let those gentle limbs more earthward wend 

Their lightsome flight ! Your aspect is severe, 

And yet, how beautiful ! Oh ! list my prayer, 

And smile — yes, smile on me, as maidens fair 

Gaze on their earthly lovers. One sweet leer 

Would grace those budding lips now too austere. 

Thee, fairest being, Princess of the skies, 

Stately and tall, on thee I bend my eyes 

In rapture ; fair one, look on me with favour ! 

And then, those endless garments, lowly sweeping, 

From which your gentle forms are scarcely peeping 

Of silly, maiden shame they seem to savour— 

Oh cast them oflP! They turn — what shapes divine 

Beings of Paradise, ye must be mine ! 

chorus of angels, (surrounding faust.) 

Join ye in beauty, 
Flames purified, meeting ! 
Sorrow is fleeting, 
Joy shall prove duty ; 
Truth shall restore him, 
Though doubt to night bore him, 
And he shall roam the sky, 
Soaring on high. 



302 



FAUST. 



mephistopheles, (collecting himself.) 

Where am I ? Ha ! — What sores like Job's thus gall 
me ? 

I feel myself, I know myself again ; 
Despite the rapture past, the present pain, 
Once more I dare to strife, yon shameless train : 
The Fiend, once more ! — no foeman shall appal me. 
My dream of love has past, that vision vain ; 
Burst are its chains, I scorn such passions' tether ! 
And, as in duty bound, I curse ye altogether ! 

CHORUS OF ANGELS. 

When round blest mortals 
Heaven's bright beams hover, 
Soon they discover 
Joy and love's portals. 
By all delighted, 
Shall we be hailed; 
Evil is blighted, 
Good hath prevailed ! 

(They soar away, bearing the immortal part o/*Faust 
with them,) 

mephistopheles, (gazing round him,) 

But how ? — say, whither have they flown ? 
Thou childish race, hast thou surprised me thus ? 
Up, up they soar, with him they made their own ! 
The prize, is theirs — and what remains for us ? 
My dearest treasure I have lost for ever ; 
That soul, for which so long with firm endeavour, 
'Twas mine to fume, and fret, and fuss. 
And now, of whom should I protection crave ? 
Who will my rightful dues restore ? — 



FAUST. 



303 



Thus in thy age deceived — go ! rant and rave ! 

Thou hast deserved as much, and more — ay, more. 

How have I acted ? Like an ass, a fool ! 

Lo ! all my toil and pains are cast away, 

And I, of these detested foes, the tool, 

Have owned mad love-sick fancy's sway. 

If I for years thus strove with force and speed, 

To work the bootless scheme I long had planned on, 

Then idiotic have I proved indeed, 

The fruits of all my toil to thus abandon. 



SCENE VII. AND LAST. 

Aerial Regions* Below, mountains, hollows, forests, 
rocks, solitudes. Holy anchorites, scattered up the 
mountains, couched amongst narrow clefts. 

CHORUS AND ECHO. 

Forests, they wave on high, 
Mountains, they round us lie, 
Zephyrs, they swiftly fly 
Through the trees silently ; 
Waves of life's ocean foam, 
Here are the caves our home ; 
Lions, sure watch they keep 
Gently around us creep, 
Proving their zealous care 
For this wide house of prayer. 

pater ecstaticus, (now downwards, now upwards 
hovering.) 

Wild and yet fervent joy 
Ever this breast must buoy 



304 



FAUST. 



Anguish and bliss combined, 
No lasting peace of mind. 
Arrows are scaring me, 
Lances are tearing me, 
Vapours entombing me, 
Lightnings consuming me ; 
That earthly feelings may 
Pass to dark night away, 
And in its glory shine 
Love's star of light divine. 

pater profundus, (in a deeper region.) 

Where fearful rocks below me resting 
Beside yon deep abysses soar, 
Where wildest brooks all dangers breasting 
Towards yon high falls their waters pour, 
Where yon deep forests, green and vernal, 
Their branches stretch, new leaves to gain — 
All these doth Love sublime, eternal, 
Create with power, with power maintain. 

Wild murmurs swell, in strife enwreathing, 
From out yon dells, yon forests old ! 
Yet, no ! the winds in love are breathing, 
In love the streams their waves have rolled, 
Destined yon smiling vales to water ; 
The lightning blast that revelled here, 
And seemed Destruction's chosen daughter, 
Was sent the plague-fraught air to clear. 
These signs were Love's sure heralds only; 
They teach the grace of him above ! 
But, ah ! my heart is cold — is lonely ! 
Oh, let those beams my spirit move 
To joy's devotion ! Lost in sadness, 
Doubt's heavy chains have bound me now- 



FAUST. 



305 



O Lord ! restore my bosom's gladness ! 
Before thy throne behold me bow ! 

pater seraphicus, (in the central region.) 

What fair morning cloud is streaming 
Through yon firs, the skies to gain ? 
Lurks not there within, half-dreaming, 
Some infantine spirit's train ? 

CHORUS OF BLEST CHILDREN. 

Tell us, father, where we wander — 
Tell us, kind one, who we be ! 
Oh, in joy we thus meander, 
Life is sweet, and blest are we ! 

PATER SERAPHICUS. 

Children ! ye who erst lay sleeping, 
Sinking ere ye bloomed, to rest, 
Ye who left your parents weeping, 
Here by angels now caressed, 
That a loving friend is near ye, 
Feel ye well ; then all draw nigh ! 
Naught of sadness know or fear ye, 
Earth's sad woes 'twas yours to fly. — 
Quickly in my eyes descending, 
That full oft o'er earth have flown, 
On yon vale their glances bending, 
Use them, children, as your own. 

(He takes them into himself.) 

Those are trees, those rocks stupendous ; 
There the cataract with force 
Springs adown the height tremendous, 
Speeding wildly on its course. 



306 



FAUST. 



BLEST CHILDREN, (from Within.) 

Vast the sight, but wild and dreary ; 
Oh, 'tis fearful there below ! 
Even the sight our souls doth weary ; 
Kind and good one, let us go ! 

PATER SERAPHICUS. 

Mount, to higher circles soaring, 
Waxing strangely there above, 
Where its rays of mercy pouring 
Beams the endless sun of love. 
For from this their transformation 
Reap the blest in highest heaven : 
Love's eternal revelation, 
Which to all the good is given. 

CHORUS OF BLEST CHILDREN. 

(Soaring round the highest summits.) 

Fondly combining 
Join in a loving ring, 
Like flowers entwining, 
Strive ye your joy to sing; 
Praise ye the donor 
Of life and glee ; 
Him whom we honour, 
Soon shall we see. 

ANGELS. 

(Soaring in the higher atmosphere, bearing Faust's im- 
mortal part.) 

We snatched in gay and happy mood 
This soul from sin's dark river ; 
Who bravely strives and seeks for good, 
Him aye can we deliver. 



FAUST. 



307 



And if the Maker's love would fain, 
As child and loved one greet him, 
Then hastes in joy the heavenly train, 
With welcomings to meet him. 

THE YOUNGER ANGELS. 

Those fair flowers, which wreathed with pleasure. 

Heavenly maids our pity sharing, 

'Tis to them we owe the treasure, 

Which we now aloft are bearing 

In our loving angel bosoms. 

Evil spirits fled our blossoms, 

Demons crouched, their prey forsaking. 

And, the place of torture taking, 

Filled their breasts love's wondrous panic ; 

E'en their ancient lord Satanic 

Felt strange pain within him burning. 

Lo! We come, in joy returning. 

THE MORE PERFECT ANGELS. 

This earthly form we here 
Bear to joy's portal, 
Though like Asbestos clear, 
Still is it mortal ; 
Where mighty Power of Mind 
Elements meeting, 
Hath in itself combined. 
Lasting and fleeting, 
Angels those natures twain, 
Ne'er can dissever ; 
Love only rends the chain 
Binding them ever. 

THE YOUNGER ANGELS*. 

Soaring o'er cliffs so high 
Feel I, now roving, 



308 



FAUST. 



Spirits our circle nigh, 

Living and loving. 

See, the clouds pass to night ! 

Mark we blest children's flight* 

Beaming in beauty! 

Free of earth's toil and pain 

Wander they here ; 

Joy is their duty. 

Thus roves their smiling train 

Through this bright sphere. 

Let him we hither bore 

With these young spirits soar 

Now wiling near ! 

THE BLEST CHILDREN. 

Gladly receiving, we 

Hail this friend lost in sleep ; 

Firmly believing, we 

Soon with him bliss shall reap. 

Free let the tresses flow, 

Round him light pouring ! 

Great and fair, mark him grow, 

As we are soaring. 

doctus marianus (in the highest, purest cell.) 
Here is the prospect free, 
Fair beams shine o'er me ; 
There women bright I see 
Passing before me. 
Midst them the Heavenly Maid, 
Stars round her shining, 
Homage to her have paid, 
Myriads combining. 

( Enthusiastically. ) 
Brightest Queen of Heaven and Earth 
Let me, lowly kneeling, 



FAUST. 



309 



All that in thee springs to birth, 
Worship, joy revealing. 
Grant thy kindly smiles of grace, 
Virgin, blest in story, 
Now to him who, face to face, 
Kneels in praise before thee. 
Firm our courage, vast our power, 
When our aid thou cravest ; 
Soft our hearts in that high hour 
When thou smil'st and savest. 
Virgin, clear and pure indeed, 
In thy beauty vernal, 
Aiding all in grief and need, 
Mother, Queen Eternal ! 

Round her entwine them, 
Like white clouds wreathing, 
Maidens once fallen, 
Penance now breathing : 
Round her they fly, 
Seeking those glances 
Whence Love rays lances. 

Yes, to thee, the Perfect one, 
These weak forms appealing, 
Seek thy pure and beaming sun, 
All their sorrows healing. 

By their weakness overthrown, 
Seemed they lost for ever ; 
Who, from his poor force alone, 
Pleasure's chains can sever ? 
Oh, how quickly slide the feet 
On love's icebound waters ! 
Passion's charms are all too sweet 
For earth's trembling daughters. 

Mater Gloriosa soars in ether. 



310 



FAUST. 



Chorus of REPENTANT ONES. 

Virgin of Beauty, 
We kneel before thee — 
Praise is our duty, 
Thou Pearl of Story ! 
Thou Queen of Glory ! 

MAGNA PECCATRIX. 

By that love which tears of anguish 

Caused to fall as balsam rarest 

On His feet, who, doomed to languish, 

Died for man a victim fairest ; 

By the vessel richly glowing 

With the orient's scents of gladness ; 

By the tresses wildly flowing, 

Wrapped around those feet in sadness — 

MULIER SAMARITANA. 

By that old and sacred fountain 
Where his flocks even Abram led ; 
By that seat beneath the mountain, 
Where the Saviour laid his head ; 
By that source in glory beaming 
Which from thence hath far meandered, 
And in crystal pureness gleaming 
Over earth's wide realms hath wandered — 

MARIA iEGYPTI ACA. 

By that spot so highly favoured, 
Where the Lord his hour did wait ; 
By that arm, which, when I wavered, 
Warned me not to pass the gate ; 
By my prayers all sin confessing, 
In the desert, forty years ; 
By my latest earthly blessing, 
Traced upon the sand with tears — 



FAUST. 



311 



THE THREE. 

Thou who ever mercy shewest, 
Even to those who far were straying, 
Thou who every feeling knowest, 
Thou who aye art grace displaying, 
Deign this soul of loving kindness, 
Who within her heart still bore thee — 
Who but erred from virtue's blindness — 
Now to pardon, we implore thee ! 

una pcenitentium, (once named Margaret, pressing 
humbly near.) 

See, before thee, 

Thou Queen of Glory, 

Thou Pearl of Story, 

A joyous maid amongst thy train ! 

That loved one cherished, 

Who all but perished, 

He comes again. 

blest children (nearing, in circling motion.) 

Lo ! he already far 
Soareth above us. 
Oh, may this Princely Star 
Still deign to love us ! 
We are like youthful trees 
Bent round the cedar ; 
He knows earth's mysteries, . 
Be he our Leader. 

the repentant one (formerly named Margaret.) 

By this bright spirit-train surrounded, 
He scarce yet feels his own delight. 
But soon in love and joy unbounded, 
He here shall soar 'mid starbeams bright. 



312 



FAUST. 



See, how each earthly clog funereal 
He leaves behind him on his way, 
And in his garments all etherial, 
A noble youth, doth hail the Day ! 
Oh, be it mine, his heart still prizing, 
His guide, his guardian friend to be ! 

MATER GLORIOSA. 

Come ! mount on high, in ether rising, 
He'll follow, if he's worthy thee. 

doctus marianus {worshipping, with his countenance 
to earth.) 

Upwards gaze on her alone — 
All can bear her splendour ! 
Kneel before her lofty throne, 
Freely homage tender. 
All our noblest feelings now, 
Queen, for thee we cherish ; 
Virgin Mother, we who bow 
Must without thee perish ! 

CHORUS MYSTICUS. 

All earthly Joy and Woe 
Like visions vanish ; 
Here heavenly starbeams glow 
No shades can banish ; 
The nameless goal divine 
Here is it won ; 
The Ever- Feminine 
Draweth us on. 



the end. 



NOTES. 



This great work is like no other ever written, chiefly on this account : 
whilst a deep meaning lurks at the bottom of all its strange occurrences 
and mysteries, yet the story is conducted by means of a series of brilliant 
phantasmagorical pictures, which appear at first sight to have little con- 
nexion with one another, but which all prove in the end to bear equally 
on, and form a necessary " phase" in the development of, the great moral 
thus inculcated. This moral, as already stated in the Preface, is, 
" Happiness cannot be found in selfish pleasure, but solely in the active 
promotion of others' joy, in the pursuit of real good." It must now 
be my task to annotate the various scenes and passages of this poem, 
explaining, as far as I am able, their design, and clearing up all 
obscurities which may have arisen, either from Germanisms of 
expression, or the introduction of ideas which are only hinted at, and 
not fully developed, by the author. In so doing, I shall always quote 
from, and speak of my translation as if it were the original, because it 
would be useless to give a double version of the passages which I may 
find it necessary to quote. 



THE COURT. — Act I.— Scene I. 

The Fairy Songs and Chorus. — Page 1. 

" Assuage the furious conflict in his heart, 
Heal the keen wounds of memory's fatal dart ; 
With cunning spells lull sorrow's wintry blast, 
And teach him blest oblivion of the past." 

Thus sings the leader of the gentle sprites, whose pride it is to 
succour the afflicted one, and who are gathered round the sleeping- 
Faust. Those who have read the first part of Faust (as who has not ?) 
will remember that it concluded with Margaret's death in the dungeon, 

D D 



314 



NOTES. 



and the announcement by a voice from heaven that she, the sinful one, 
was saved. Some time may have been supposed to elapse betwixt 
that night and the morning on which we again find Faust slumbering 
on a flowery bank, and surrounded by elves. From the song of these 
graceful beings, we learn that the slumberer is still oppressed by the 
keenest woe, doubtless for the loss of Margaret. The sprites have 
gathered round the suffering mortal, and endeavour by their kindly 
spells, not only to secure for him a momentary respite in sleep from his 
mental tortures, but altogether to heal the keen wounds of memory, 
and " bathe him in the dew of Lethe's stream." The song and chorus 
are extremely graceful, though there is something dreamy and indis- 
tinct about them. It will be observed that they conclude by counselling 
Faust to a life of activity and exertion as the best means of forgetting 
his woes. 

" Life's pulse all freshly beats yet once again,'" &c. — Page 3, 

The beautiful soliloquy, which thus commences, cannot be too much 
admired. The opening lines convey the most perfect idea of a lovely 
summer morning to the reader's mind; and we wonder not, as we 
peruse them, that amidst such a scene Faust should cast off the chains 
of sadness that had so long bound him, and resolve 

Onwards to press upon the rugged g&»l 
That leads us to perfection. 

The beautiful passage, commencing — 

" Look upwards, where, the lingering night departing," &c, 
contains a simile, the truth of which has been felt by many a self- 
styled philosopher. Faust compares knowledge to the sun, which 
appears so beautiful, so glorious in rising, and when once risen, blinds 
the beholder ; and this comparison is strictly correct, if that knowledge 
be alluded to, not founded on faith, but on man's own powers of per- 
ception, on the labours only of his weak and erring mind. From this 
knowledge, incomplete as it ever must be, the mind indeed finds itself 
repelled, like that of Faust, and an irresistible impulse 

" To innocent boyhood makes us turn once more, 
Past halcyon days regretting and bewailing." 

Faust turns away then from the sun ; he leaves the pursuit of know- 
ledge, either false or true, and seeks refuge in the delights of fleeting 
pleasure, here allegorically embodied in the white, dazzling, but quickly- 
passing waterfalls. This, after the first bold determination to seek the 
good and great in the opening of the soliloquy, is indeed a melancholy 
conclusion ; but how often do our best intentions thus pass away — how 
often are our thoughts thus diverted by circumstances to other and less 
pure channels. Faust concludes, as the half-blind generally do, by as- 
serting that life is vain and fleeting, and has no great goal ; and he 
consequently internally argues that in such a world it is folly not to 
enjoy whilst we may, and seek as much happiness as we can possibly 
grasp in the day-dream of life afforded us. 



NOTES. 



315 



SCENE II.— The Audience Chamber. 

■ In this and the following scenes a perfect picture is given us of a 
German Emperor's Court in the middle ages. All the characters are 
individually marked out, and distinguished from one another ; the 
young and giddy Emperor, the cautious Chancellor, the General, 
Treasurer, &c, are all well drawn, particularly the Chancellor, who will 
somewhat remind the reader of Polonius. His speech, commencing— 
" Virtue supreme, with glorious golden rays," 

presents but too true a picture of the state of Germany for several 
following centuries, when the power of the Emperor was one day 
enormous and the next day nominal, and the many Barons, Counts, and 
Princes waged endless war with one another, and against their liege 
lord. We need not wonder, then, at the poverty of which all the 
courtiers complain, or think their distress much overdrawn. 

"Nature and mind! Good Christians, speak not so," &c. — Page 11. 

A truly characteristic speech. If, as we have reason to suppose, the 
Chancellor is the same person introduced in the fourth act as Arch- 
chancellor and Archbishop, we need not wonder that he should at once 
perceive something supernatural about Mephistopheles, whilst his col- 
leagues only regard the new fool as an ordinary jester. Werner, a 
very great, but somewhat neglected German author, says — 

" The silliest priest 
Will scent the fiend before the wisest layman." 



SCENE III. — The Masquerade. 

This extraordinary scene brings before us characters of every kind, 
from Pan the mighty god, down to woodcutters and coalmen. Admir- 
able effects of light and shade are produced throughout, and a rich and 
glowing world is set before the reader's mental vision, which would 
have become inextricable confusion in the hands of any other author 
than Goethe. Maskers of every shape and hue pass before us. Admir- 
ably characteristic is the drunken man's song, which concludes — - 

" Pleasures all are sweet, but flying ; 
Tame discretion, you're a bore ! 
Let me lie though where I'm lying, 
For I now can stand no more." 

Extremely happy is the introduction of the modern fairies as young 
and beautiful scandal-mongers. 

" Zeal for your Emperor inspires him, 
The worthy monarch much requires him" — Page 35. 

The episode of the dwarf, Zoilo-Thersites, is the first appearance in 
this scene which smacks of the world of spirits. He may be regarded 

D D 2 



316 



NOTES. 



as a species of avant- courier of the master demon, Mephistopheles 
himself, who approaches in the guise of Plutus, God of Wealth, sitting 
within a chariot driven by the wild youth — Poesy. He has come, 
says the boy charioteer, to replenish the imperial coffers. A type of 
the fleeting nature of poetic Fancy's visions is afforded in the sudden 
disappearance of the supposed gems cast by this wondrous youth 
around him. 

" Ever like me thou actest, and I vow 
Far richer than myself art thou. — Page 37. 

Plutus owns him to be his true son, and confesses that he is richer 
than himself. Imagination does indeed far surpass wealth. What we 
think ourselves we are. The richest man on earth, if he deems himself 
badly off, and craves for more, is far poorer than him who, having but 
enough to satisfy the absolute necessities of nature, esteems himself a 
truly wealthy man. The boy charioteer again departs. It has been 
thought that this youth and Euphorion were the same being under two 
different forms; nay, some have even imagined that the sprite Homun- 
culus was but another development of this individual. 

" Away, thou odious female race /" — Page 37. 

The manner in which "the lean-ribbed knave," Avarice, is delineated, 
is humorous in the extreme. He is rightly placed in the chariot of 
Plutus ; for what is the good of Avarice, unless there be Wealth to 
guard ? It may be as well to observe here that some have thought, 
perhaps with reason, that Faust enacts the part of Plutus in the mas- 
querade, and Mephistopheles that of Avarice. Goethe, however, gives 
us no clue by means of which we can arrive at any positive certainty 
in the matter. 



SCENE TV.— Imperial Garden. 

The stratagem of Mephistopheles has succeeded. He has curried 
favour with the Emperor, by exposing him to apparent danger. The 
young monarch is proud of the courage he has displayed, and wishes 
for other similar sports. 

" Hear, then, and view this mighty piece of paper." — Page 52. 

Here we at last discover the new source of treasures promised by 
Mephistopheles. It is Credit — a power till then unknown, and now 
embodied by him in the fabrication of bank-notes. A deep vein 
of sarcastic irony runs through this scene. Mephistopheles naturally 
anticipates that from a power discovered and first employed through 
a combination of folly and knavery, nothing but lasting evil can arise. 
Hence the sardonic triumph of his eulogium of " paper money." 



NOTES. 



317 



" Our empire owes this blessing to your aid." 

I cannot but suspect that the Emperor is well aware that these 
supposed treasure stores are mere " moonshine," although he appoints 
Faust, master of his treasury, to search for them ; but of course he 
is bound to affect real faith in these treasures, as he has pledged his 
word for their existence, whatever he may really think of the matter. 
The rapturous delight of the real Fool in the paper money thrown 
to him, which concludes the scene, is extremely natural and amusing. 
Indeed, it may be observed of Goethe in " Faust," as of Shakspeare 
generally, that every little episode introduced is replete with peculiar 
merit, and adds to the effect of the whole. 



SCENE V.— Dark Gallery. 

The ardent and never satiated or contented temperament of Faust 
is well contrasted here with the cold and sarcastic nature of Mephis- 
topheles. Faust is like a spoilt child, who is surprised at the slightest 
difficulty arising in the carrying out of his wishes. He has been 
accustomed, for some time, to having all his desires gratified by his 
demon-servant, almost before he expressed them, and is thence naturally 
indignant at Mephistopheles' refusal to conjure the shades of Helen and 
Paris forthwith from Hades. However, if Faust demands much, he is 
also ready to risk much ; and his daring promptitude to expose himself 
to nameless dangers, somewhat raises him again in our estimation. In 
fine, he is still the Faust of the first part, searching, from hour to hour, 
for some novelty, for some means of overcoming- the tedium of existence. 
Even danger is far more pleasing to him than monotony, and he 
thinks, with the Chorus in Schiller's beautiful tragedy of " The Bride 
of Messina" — 

" Man must have somewhat to hope or to fear, 
The feast or the battle, the bride or the bier ; 
To-day we carouse and to-morrow we mourn, 
Or how could the weight of existence be borne ?" 

We thus see that Faust remains as far, or further than ever, from 
that happiness which he is in quest of. 

" These are the Mothers !" — Page 59. 

Those wondrous Mothers may be supposed to typify the Ideas. 
Vide Plato. " The Ideas, eternal types of things, never enter into 
variable existence ; they cannot be transformed, they have no actual 
existence. From the centre of their home — eternal unity, or the 
bosom of almighty power — they reflect their images on all the creations 
of Nature and the human mind." Theophrastus Paracelsus says, 
" Elementa sunt matrices." Around these Mothers, as we are after- 
wards informed by Faust, roam " the lifeless shades of life." 

" All that hath once existence known on earth, 
Strives there to issue to a second birth." 



318 



NOTES. 



Whether elements, then, or ideas, the Mothers evidently represent some 
absorbing power, which receives all things in its vortex as soon as they 
have run their mortal course. 

SCENE VI.— Imperial "Fete." 

A short, but amusing scene. Truly characteristic of the officers of 
a despotic court is the absolute demand . of the Chamberlain and the 
Master of the Household, that the ghosts should appear immediately^ 
and without any more delay. 

" What art ye use is all the same to me, 
The Emperor demands the play to see." 



SCENE VIL—Hall of the Knights. 

Even those who generally endeavour to depreciate the great work 
before us, are compelled to admit the delightful humour, and correct 
appreciation of human nature, which characterize this scene. The 
real envy and pretended contempt with which the ladies regard Helen, 
and the gentlemen Paris, are drawn with a master's hand. Indeed, the 
entire scene is admirably conceived and executed. 

' Have J still eyes ? Hath not wild beauty's stream" Sfc. — Page 72. 

This is one of the most impassioned and exquisitely poetical declara- 
tions of love ever penned in any age or country. Here we see that 
beauty — mere sensual beauty — has enveloped Faust in its toils. Mar- 
garet, at least, was the innocent, the kind, the truly-loving maiden. 
In her Faust (had he exercised his will, his volition) might have found 
a lasting refuge against the wiles of the Evil One ; but from this wild 
passion for Helen nothing can possibly result but madness at first, and 
in the end, satiety. Thus is he punished, and rightly punished, for 
daring to intrude into realms concealed from mortal ken, and rushing 
in where " angels fear to tread." 

" Let that being rejoice 
Who breathes in the rosy light ! 
But tempt not the gods ; for no human voice 
. Can tell of those horrors of endless night ; 
And never, oh ! never, may mortal behold, 
What the gods in their mercy have fail'd to unfold." 

Schiller's Diver. 

This first act is at least equal, in its own peculiar style, to anything 
in the first part of Faust. The sweet songs of the fairies — Faust's 
philosophical soliloquy — the war of words betwixt the cautious Chan- 
cellor and the sarcastic Mephistopheles — the ditties and speeches of the 
partycoloured Masqueraders — the episode of " the paper money" — the 
description of the mysterious Mothers — the apparition of the Spectres, 
form a varying, multiform, but truly perfect whole. 



NOTES. 



319 



THE CLASSICAL WALPURGIS NIGHT.— Act II. 



SCENE I.— Study of Faust. 

We here find ourselves again in that old Gothic chamber, in which 
Faust, the professor, laboured and toiled so many long years in his voca- 
tion, without arriving at one satisfactory result — without finding anything 
at all calculated to fill the vacuum in his heart and brain. I cannot 
forbear quoting the opening lines of the first part, (from a manuscript 
translation,) because they shew, in a few words, that state of Faust's 
mind which induced him to seek pleasure from Mephistopheles, and 
risk his soul for the sake of obtaining it. Faust, then, is seated, by 
night time, on a high trestle before his desk, in this very Gothic 
chamber, when, starting from his labours, he breaks into the following 
soliloquy : — 

" Law, Medicine, and Philosophy, 
Trades that our sages wisdom call ! 
And thou, too, deep Theology — 
Have I not laboured o'er ye all ? 
And now that all my toil is done, 
What aim is gained ? what goal is won ? 
Doctor they call me — Magister too ; 
Ye ten past years, I call on you I 
Bear witness with what zeal and pride, 
My scholars I have mystified ; 
Shewed this was this, and so was so — 
What have I learnt ? That I nothing know ! 
True, I am wiser than all the fools, 
Priests, clerks, and doctors, the froth of the schools ; 
I feel nor scruple, nor doubt, nor care, 
I fear not hell, or the devils there. 
And therefore I know no earthly joy, 
No hope of knowledge my heart can buoy, 
No pleasing fancy can cheer my mind, 
My toil may yet amend mankind. 
Then I have neither lands nor treasures, 
Nor earthly hopes, nor earthly pleasures. 
No dog would lead so cursed a life ! 
Thence have I striven in toilsome strife, 
Magic, to rend thy veil away, 
And -view thy form in beams of day ; 
That I no longer might need to tell 
That which my hearers know as well ; 
No longer make others hear and see 
What to myself is mystery ; 
But view creation's death and birth, 
The inward force and power of earth." 

We thus see that Faust had a double motive for seeking magic aid — 
first, the desire for knowledge, and, secondly, the want of pleasure. 



320 



NOTES. 



His first wish, however, he abandoned altogether, when he united 
himself with Mephistopheles, who taught him that creation had no goal, 
that the universal All came from and resulted in Nothingness, and 
that there was, in fact, no such thing as knowledge. To return to the 
scene more immediately under our consideration, Mephistopheles, in 
a mischievous freak, has carried Faust back, entranced, to his old study 
— knowing that the sight of it will recal old days to the Doctor's 
mind, if he revives, and remind him that he who seeks the love of the 
Grecian Helen, is nothing more, in real truth, than a ci-devant German 
Professor. 

" Gate and doors I find them ope." — Page 84. 

Those who have read the first part of Faust will remember the young 
and ingenuous student who came to the professor, Faust, on his first 
arrival at the university, to pay his respects, and inquire what branch of 
study the learned doctor would advise him to adopt. Mephistopheles then 
received the youthful student, decked in Faust's professional mantle, 
and taught him, in consistency with his usual strain of reasoning, that 
all law, philosophy, medicine, and theology, were '* humbug ;" and that 
the only plan for a wise man to adopt, who wished to get on in the 
world, was that of practically carrying out the science of humbug in 
his dealings with his fellow -men. The student, full as he was of en- 
thusiasm and veneration for the professor, was still at first a little dis- 
concerted by such worldly advice, and dismayed by the contemptuous 
tone in which his instructor spoke of all religion and morality. At 
last, however, Mephistopheles succeeded in changing the current of his 
thoughts, and vitiating his mind, and thereupon the master and the 
pupil parted. Now, this very identical student accidentally passing, 
and finding gate and doors open, makes his entrance apparently some- 
what " Bacchi plenus," and a delightful colloquy ensues betwixt him 
and his old preceptor. The seed sown by Mephistopheles has taken 
deep root in his breast, and borne the fruits that might have been ex- 
pected. He has become an admirable specimen of the self- conceited 
German Pantheists of the day — the new inflated " Hegelianer." 

" Experience! — Humbug! dust and vapour! 
To the soul's sun a rushlight taper. 
Confess! all knowledge men have made their own 
Might just as well remain unknown !" 

I cannot permit myself to dwell on the delightful humour manifested 
in almost every line of this scene; but will hasten to add a few general 
observations on the modern German philosophy, here held up to the eye 
of scorn, and the feelings of our author, Goethe, with respect to this dog- 
matical and absurd school. And, in the first place, I would observe, 
that Goethe himself, in his younger years, had indulged in all these 
follies, and even promulgated some of them in his works. This utter 
contempt for the opinions of all sensible people ; this headstrong folly ; 
this determined self-reliance ; this tendency to dub everything good, 
moral, and religious, by the titles of " Philistine," rococo, and unen- 
lightened : all these things and feelings were perfectly well known to 



NOTE?. 



321 



our author; and on this very account they seemed the more disgusting 
to him. Had there been anything new in this insolence, contemptibly 
absurd as it was, it might still have been looked upon as an interesting 
phenomenon ; but to Goethe it was indeed " stale, flat, and unprofit- 
able" — a mere memento of those youthful follies which he had long 
learnt to regard in their true light : 

" Even this presumption is a thricetold tale." 

And now, a few words on the blind materialism of the student, or 
Baccalaureus. He believes in himself only, and in that which he has 
seen ; he will trust his own senses, and nothing else. How admirably 
is this feeling expressed in the lines — 

" There was no world before / willed creation ; 
I led the sun from out the azure sea; 
The moon began her changing course with me," &c. 

No doubt, the new school of Pantheists, the " Hegelianer" — those learned 
gentlemen who assert that " the Maker is the Made, and the Made the 
Maker," will be much affronted at the idea of my classing them amongst 
Materialists ; but the distinction betwixt Atheism and Pantheism in 
the sense of the Hegel school, is so extremely slight, that my English 
optics are altogether unable to trace it. We — that is, the Philistines, 
the unenlightened — contend that the Creating Power and creation are 
twain. The Atheist and the Pantheist argue that they are one and the 
same: the difference betwixt them being this — viz., the Atheist says 
there is no creative power, but only self-existent creation; and the 
Pantheist declares that there is a creative power, but that this power 
is creation. What is the difference then ? The Atheist is at least frank 
and open — the Pantheist dwells in equivocal mysticisms. The former 
is a self-confessed Materialist, who glories in his Materialism; and the 
latter is a Materialist who is afraid, or ashamed, to assert his principles 
openly, and so takes refuge in a scholastic subterfuge. But enough of 
these self-styled philosophers! I will conclude my notice of this scene 
by quoting the words of their representative, Baccalaureus : 

" Who — who, save I, hath freed ye from the fetters 
Of mean Philistine thoughts and Fable's letters ? 
But I, for ever free, my guide my soul, 
Follow my own most inmost light as goal, 
And wander in delight, where none shall find me — 
Eternal day before, and night behind me." 

SCENE II. — Wagner s Laboratorium. 

The task in which we here find Faust's ancient colleague employed 
is worthy of his plodding, careful, never-wearying mind. More than 
one great alchymist of old entertained the same idea of " artificial 
creation;" but it was left to Wagner's untiring industry to carry this 
idea into execution. We cannot help feeling a certain degree of pity 
for him, when he is so cruelly deserted by his own creature, from 
which he vainly has hoped to gain so much real information. Informa- 
tion ! This is what Wagner seeks. Of true Knowledge he has not the 



322 



NOTES. 



very slightest conception. The entire character is a somewhat bitter 
satire on the so-called chamber professors (StubenGelehrten) of Ger- 
many. 

"Well, dear papa! how now? There's no mistake!" — Page 92. 

Homun cuius appears to share in the demoniac nature of elementary 
spirits, and perhaps forms a member of that family which alchymists 
term " Vulcanales." He greets Mephistopheles, it may be observed, 
as his cousin. Indeed, the two are obviously old acquaintances. 

SCENE III.— Plains of Pharsalia. 

This scene brings us to the Classical Walpurgis Night, a truly extra- 
ordinary production, in which, as in the masquerade scene of the first 
act, the most admirable effects of light and shade are introduced. It 
is a perfect classical picture — a kind of humorous summary of all the 
mythological fables of the ancients, and, in many points of view, very 
superior to the Romantic Walpurgis Night of the first part. It con- 
tains, too, much beautiful poetry, and displays a power of imagination 
in its creation, which may be safely asserted to be unrivalled in the 
annals of dramatic writing. In a word, it is worthy of Goethe in his 
very palmiest days. 

" To the dark meeting of this night, as oft before" &c— Page 98. 

The soliloquy of the fury Erictho, by which the scene is opened, is 
extremely fine ; and the classic metre, introduced with so accurate a 
perception of the beautiful, adds greatly to the general effect of the 
speech. 

" Needful to all, the wicked and the wise," &c. — Page 104. 

In speaking thus, the sphinxes regard Mephistopheles as a personifi- 
cation of worldly wisdom, without some spice of which even the best 
of mortals cannot exist on earth. 

SCENE TV.— River Pernios. 

We here witness the realization of Faust's dream in an earlier part 
of the act — that dream of classic times, of nymphs and swans, bearing 
on Leda, the mother of Faust's new idol. The dialogue which follows 
betwixt Faust and Chiron is very well maintained, and, in some pas- 
sages, extremely poetical. The few words uttered by the priestess 
Manto are extremely impressive, from an air of mystic solemnity which 
pervades them. 

" Soft and good is she, 
And still implores her father in her prayers," &c. — Page 116. 

It may be observed, that Goethe never loses an opportunity of de- 
preciating the medical art, as practised in our own days. Thus he 



NOTES. 



323 



makes Faust speak with the most bitter contempt of his own medical 
exertions, in the first Act, and dub himself a wholesale murderer. 



SCENE V. — Another part of the River. 

From this point forward, the mortal interest — viz., that of Faust — 
altogether ceases to occupy us in the Classical Walpurgis Night ; and 
the rest of the Act follows the fortunes of Mephistopheles and Homun- 
culus, solely as a means of producing a truly wonderful series of phan- 
tasmagorical pictures, which could neither have been conceived nor 
executed by any other poet than Goethe. 

"Shouts and groans of anguish meeting." — Page 124. 

The story of Ibycus and his cranes is well known in Germany, 
even to the most ignorant of classic lore, from its having been made 
the subject of one of Schiller's beautiful ballads. It was from this cir- 
cumstance, no doubt, in part, that Goethe was led to employ the term 
" cranes of Ibycus," inasmuch as all Germans knew that these birds 
were the engines of vengeance on murderers of old, and might there- 
fore fill the same office again with propriety. — Vide Lempriere, for this 
and all other classical allusions. 

" But come what may, my feelings cry — 

This ass's head thou must deny!" — Page 128. 

The incident of the Empusa, or Goddess with an ass's hoof, who joins 
the circle of Lamias, is highly amusing. Nothing can be more delight- 
ful than Mephistopheles' aristocratic resolution to deny any connexion 
betwixt his horse's hoof and the more plebeian asinine supporter and 
Bottom-like visage of his pretended cousin. 

" Water with vast Creation's power is rife." — Page 132. 

The strife of Thales and Anaxagoras is one that has been long main- 
tained amongst learned men, and supporters have been found of both the 
theories here advanced. Goethe, himself, thought much on this subject, 
and inclined strongly to believe that the origin of all things, in a mere 
physical point of view, must be sought in water. This he renders pretty 
obvious, from the great superiority he gives to Thales over his opponent, 
Anaxagoras. 

" The Phorcyades ! Pay the maids a call," &e. — Page 136. 

The admirable scene betwixt Mephistopheles and the Phorcyades is 
particularly to be remarked, inasmuch as it is closely connected with 
the third Act, and explains the strange appearance there of that Master 
of all guile. These Phorcyades were sisters of the Gorgons, and para- 
gons of ugliness. 



324 



NOTES. 



SCENE VI.— Baijs of the ffigean Ocean. 

The leading feature of this scene is the episode of the Cabiri, who 
seem to have represented the elementary powers of nature, as types of 
that Polytheism of the ancients which is so closely connected with 
Modern Pantheism. That great man, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, thus 
speaks of the Cabiri, in his course of lectures : — 

" A confounding of God with nature, and an incapacity of finding 
unity in the manifold, and infinity in the individual, these are the 
origin of Polytheism. The most perfect instance of this kind of theism 
is that of early Greece. Other nations seem either to have transcended 
or come short of the old Hellenic standard — a mythology in itself 
fundamentally allegorical, and typical of the powers and functions of 
nature, but subsequently mixed up with a deification of great men and 
hero-worship; so that, finally, the original idea became inextricably 
combined with the form and attributes of some legendary individual. 
In Asia, the idea of the unity of God, in a distorted reflection of the 
Mosaic, was much more generally preserved. It is not improbable, 
that, in the Samothracian, or Cabeiric mysteries, the link between the 
Asiatic and Greek popular schemes of mythology lay concealed. Of 
these mysteries there are conflicting accounts ; and, perhaps, there were 
variations of doctrine, in the lapse of ages and intercourse with other 
systems. Thus much, at least, we may make out — that Cabiri, impliedly, 
at least, meant socii complices, having a hypostatic or fundamental union 
with, or relation to, each other; that these mysterious deities were ulti- 
mately, at least, divided into a higher and lower triad; that the lower 
triad, primi quia injimi, consisted of the old Titanic deities or powers 
of nature, under the obscure names of Axieros, Axiokersos, and 
Axiokersa, representing, symbolically, different modifications of animal 
desire, or material action — such as hunger, thirst, and fire, without 
consciousness ; that the higher triad, ultimi quia superiores, consisted of 
Jupiter, Pallas (or Apollo, or Bacchus, or Mercury, mystically called 
Cadmilos), and Venus — representing, as before, the vovq, or reason — 
the Xoyog, or word, or communicative power — and the epoog, or love; 
that the Cadmilos, or Mercury — the manifested, communicated, or sent, 
— appeared not only in his proper person, as second of the triad, but 
also as a mediator between the lower and higher triad: and so there 
were seven divinities ; and, indeed, according to some authorities, it might 
seem that the Cadmilos acted once as a mediator of the higher, and 
once of the lower triad; and that so there were eight Cabeiric divinities. 
The lower or Titanic powers being subdued, chaos ceased, and creation 
began in the reign of the divinities of mind and love ; but the chaotic 
gods still existed in the abyss, and the notion of evoking them was the 
origin, the idea of, the Greek necromancy." 

Goethe drops a sly hint, through the medium of Homunculus, that 
after all, these Cabeiric mysteries were not much worth the knowing. 

" These monstrous forms seem nought to me 
But earthern pans and pots," &c. 

Proteus is depicted with much humour. 



NOTES. 



325 



SCENE VII. — Another part of the Sea-shore. 

This most beautiful and fantastic scene concludes the classic revels. 
In it is introduced the procession of the Ocean powers. The lines which 
describe the joy of Nereus and his daughter, in their momentary 
meeting, are poetical in the extreme. 

" Joy! joy! for ever T — Page 156. 

A truly rapturous eulogium of the crystal element, which Goethe 
wrote from his heart. No fitter motto can be found for all those who 
assert the superiority of the natural over all artificial fluids. 

" What mystery now ''mid the bright ocean train" &c. — Page 157. 

Homunculus was only created by art, without the aid of love. Thence 
is his being incomplete, and nothing but the influence of Eros can 
warm him into active life. But it is to be presumed, that when he bursts 
from the shell which confines him, he at once ceases bodily to exist, 
and mixes with the elements ; and thus the sole means of gaining real 
life afforded him, only bring him death. But this death is far prefer- 
able to the state of half-existence, within his artificial shell, which has 
just been his. He does not cease spiritually to exist, but mixes with 
the All, from which he can at any time be again summoned to active 
being. Thus is this wonderful act worthily concluded by the praises 
of Eros, the motive power of creation. 



HELEN.— ACT III. 

SCENE I. 

In this act a new and wonderful world bursts on us. The days of 
yore are again revived, and forms that have long slumbered in Hades, 
summoned to existence by all-conquering love, resume their former 
course on earth, and act the past again. Helen and her maidens return 
from Troy. I might dilate for many pages on this unrivalled fac- simile 
of the Grecian tragedies of old. The metres are classical, and full of 
Grecian pomp and dignity. The character of Helen is magnificent. 
There is something so grand, so stately, in every word that falls from 
her lips, whether it be addressed to her trembling maidens, or the 
bitterly sarcastic Phorcyas, that I cannot but regard her as the most 
successful and admirable impersonation of the classic ages that ever 
was conceived by mortal. Admirably, too, is the character of Mephis- 
topheles sustained in his classic mask : — how biting are his sarcasms ! 
how well he defends the cause of ugliness ! how bitterly he reminds 
Helen of her past misdemeanors ! The choruses introduced are 



326 



NOTES. 



glorious, and their rough metres produce the very finest effect in the 
original, whatever they may do in my translation. In fine, " Helen" is 
a dream of the classic ages, which nothing but the most lofty genius 
could have conceived. 

" Much have I witnessed, although the tresses," &c. — Page 168. 

In this fine chorus, as in those of the Greek drama, it will be 
observed that the purely poetic and reflective precedes the dramatic. 
The maidens take, as it were, a brief review of all the horrors they 
have witnessed, before they address the crowning horror, Phorcyas. 

" Is this remembrance ? WasH a dream that scared my soul ? 
Was I all this ? Or am I? Shall I ever be 
A spectral vision, I, the cause and spoil of strife?" — Page 173. 

From this and other similar passages, it is throughout evident that a 
kind of dim consciousness pervades the minds of Helen and her 
followers, that they are not real beings, but only phantasmagorical 
sprites escaped for a short time from their home in Hades. It is almost 
impossible to read without shuddering, the lines in which Helen alludes 
to her spectral union with Achilles : — 

" I, as a shade, to him the shade, did bind myself," &c. 



SCENE II.— Court of the Castle. ' 

In this scene we are particularly struck by the manner in which 
Goethe has contrived to express the variance betwixt the classic and 
the romantic world, by the form of the metres employed. Thus Faust, 
on his entrance, addresses Helen in iambics — a kind of neutral 
ground, as it were, on which the ancients and the moderns can equally 
meet. Then follows the truly modern rhyming speech of Lynceus, 
which excites Helen's wonder and admiration : — 

" Each tone appeared to suit it to the others, 
And when one word had on the ear resounded 
Another came with that first word to play." 

The first speech of Faust will be observed to have a degree of classical 
stiffness about it, as if he were endeavouring to render himself the more 
intelligible to the Grecian Helen ; and she replies in the same tone, 
abandoning somewhat of her former solemnity of expression, for the 
sake of the supposed barbarian stranger. 

" Thou see'st me, Queen, again return!" &c. — Page 192. 

The description given by Lynceus of the advance of himself and his 
comrades, presents a vivid picture of that great invasion of the South 
of Europe by the fierce barbarian northern and eastern tribes, which 
took place in the course of the third and fourth centuries. 



NOTES. 



327 



SCENE III. — Groves and Cavern. 

A long interval is supposed to have elapsed betwixt this and the last 
scene. Faust, Reason or the Thoughtful, is united to Helen, Beauty or 
the Beautiful. The fruit of their union is Euphorion, who typifies 
Poetry. Thus must the mere reasoning faculty ever be conjoined with 
a keen appreciation of the beautiful — thus must there ever be a union 
of the mind and the senses, to produce what truly deserves the name of 
poetry. Euphorion is drawn as too nearly allied to heaven to remain 
quietly on firm earth. He cannot fly indeed — wings are denied him ; 
but he can leap. Still truth, reality, earth, must be the groundwork of 
his highest imaginations ; to earth he must return again, to gain fresh 
vigour, and from earth must he soar on high. A grand and noble 
esson is conveyed by this allegory. Poetry must ever spring out of 
earthly feelings and earthly thoughts ; if it does not, it is baseless, and 
can then no longer deserve the name. The poet in his wildest imagina- 
tive flights must still inculcate a truth at the bottom ; he must never 
allow his fancy to seduce him from reality and reason, or his powers 
will but lead to his own destruction. In the scene before us, we see 
Euphorion forget the claims of reason, and strive to reach an imagined 
and visionary goal. Reality and truth he despises ; mere fancy is his 
guiding star ; he soars in its pursuit on high, despite the warnings of 
his anxious parents, and falls precipitate, the victim of his own misguided 
folly. 

" When thou thy arms so bright 
Softly enhoinest, 8fc." — Page 211. 

The lines spoken by Euphorion and the maidens, in their fantastic 
dances, are exquisitely beautiful. I fear that I have not succeeded in 
conveying the wonderful grace and beauty of the original. 

" Born to cull earth's fairest blossoms, 
Sprung from sires who high held sway, 
Thou, alas ! on falsest bosoms 
Castedst youth and love away" — Page 217. 

It is evident from this and many other passages of this scene, that 
Goethe intended to typify in Euphorion not only Poetry in general, but 
also Lord Byron in particular. At the same time I cannot refrain 
from observing, that the child of Helen presents a far too flattering 
picture of that splenetic and unhappy man. Not his was the freshness 
of thought, the wild and artless vivacity which distinguish the young 
Euphorion. No ! his only mission seemed to be to deny, and never to 
affirm. He was (for the truth must be told) a fearful impersonation 
of that spirit, of which Mephistopheles presents a gayer and more 
sportive, though equally sarcastic phasis. Carlyle says of him, " Our 
Byron was in his youth but what Schiller and Goethe had been in theirs ; 
yet the author of Werter wrote Iphigenia and Torquato Tasso ; and he 
who began with the Robbers ended with Wilhelm Tell. With longer 



328 



NOTES. 



life all things were to have been hoped for from Byron ; for he loved 
truth in his inmost heart, and would have discovered at last that his 
Corsairs and Harolds were not true." Never ! The nettle cannot bear 
roses, nor the barren tree bring forth good fruit. Byron was essentially 
negative ; he could only deny and ridicule : aught further was denied 
him. From his first canto of Childe Harold to his last of Don Juan 
there is no advance, but an incessant repetition of the same set of false 
and childish, but pernicious ideas. Byron was all artificial, even in his 
despair — there was nothing true about him. He was not devoid of 
common sense, but his powers of reasoning were extremely limited, 
and could never go beyond a certain point, so that he kept turning 
round and round in a ceaseless ring, ending just where he began. 
What is there similar to his depraved tone of feeling in the early works 
of either Goethe or Schiller ? Both of these great men affirmed ; 
Goethe, the irresistible sway of love — Schiller, the unconquerable 
power of liberty. I allude to Werter and the Robbers. Byron could 
only deny ! and out of nothing, comes nothing forth. — -Goethe's 
delineation is highly poetical, its only fault being that it is far too 
much so to apply to its prototype ; those who are disposed to think 
favourably of Byron's powers and capabilities will undoubtedly consider 
this delineation an all but perfect one. 

" Once more restored then, are we to light and day" &c. — Page 220. 

The concluding chorus of the maidens is exquisitely poetical. 
Nothing can be more natural than the horror with which the maidens 
shrink from gloomy Hades, and resolve rather to mingle with the 
elements than return to its lifeless shades. 



THE BATTLE— ACT IV. 



SCENE I. — Alpine Heights. 

We find the following observation of Goethe's, on the subject of this 
Act, recorded in Eckerman's Conversations. " If, as you say, the Fourth 
Act is an isolated world in itself, it will be quite in keeping with the 
rest of the work. For, at the bottom, what is Auerbach's Cellar, or 
the Witch's Kitchen, or the Blocksberg, or the Imperial Council- 
Chamber, or the Masquerade, or the Paper-money, or the Classical 
Walpurgis Night, or the Helena, but each a little world for itself, 
independent of, but not without a mutual bearing on each other. The 
poet's chief concern is to give expression to as multifarious a world as 
possible, and he uses the fable of a great hero merely as a thread to 
go through the whole, on which he may string whatever he best 
pleases." — Thus Faust contains not one moral only, but many morals ; 
not one truth, but many truths ; all leading, however, to the final con- 



NOTES. 



329 



elusion, that happiness must be sought on earth in active well-doing-, 
and not in selfish pleasure. This Fourth Act is absolutely necessary 
for the understanding of the Fifth, but it is also a world in itself. The 
style is peculiar, and contrasts admirably with the preceding and follow- 
ing Acts. Indeed it may be observed throughout, that Goethe has dis- 
played the most happy discrimination in invariably adapting such a 
metre and style to every episode introduced, as to distinguish it from 
all the rest, and shew at once the sense in which he would wish it to 
be taken. Thus after the highly poetical " Helen," we find a Hudibrastic 
and satirical Act, from which we again pass to the exquisite opening of 
" the death of Faust," or Fifth Act. This scene on Alpine heights is 
occupied chiefly by a long interview betwixt Faust and Mephistopheles, 
in which we see that the former still retains his feeling of complete 
independence and heartfelt contempt of his demon tempter. 

" What ! see I that most lovely form," &c. — Page 228. 

This passage must refer to Margaret. Some doubts have been 
entertained of this, on account of the expression, " that prize which 
craved my youth." But by this Faust can only mean to say, that 
in youth already he craved the possession of such a being. This 
appearance of Margaret is the more remarkable, inasmuch as it appears 
to drive the Grecian Helen altogether from Faust's memory, and nerve 
him to action and exertion. We may imagine, then, that Heaven 
allowed this form to appear to him ; and it must not be forgotten that, 
from this time forward, Faust abandons his design of seeking happiness 
in mere sensual pleasure, and resolves to strive for a material goal. It 
is true that he does this from mere motives of selfishness, and is, there- 
fore, nearly as far from true happiness as ever. This first speech of 
Faust's, it will be observed, is still in the classic metre employed by 
Helen and her maidens, and seems to be the last dying echo of the scenes 
he has just passed through. ^ 

" My glance was fixed upon the azure ocean," &c. — Page 233. 

Mephistopheles does not oppose any difficulties to the strange demand 
thus made by his intended victim. He seems altogether unaware of the 
consequences to which such a desire may lead, indicative as it is of a 
craving in Faust's mind to labour to make himself useful. He cannot 
conceive the idea of a being's seeking happiness in anything but selfish 
pleasure ; his mind is incapable of entertaining the idea ; otherwise 
he would, no doubt, be more upon his guard. 

" Here come my friends in proud array," &c. — Page 238. 

It is not clearly stated whether these three mighty ones are mortals, 
spirits, or devils ; but they certainly appear to have a spice of the 
supernatural in their composition. 

E E 



330 



NOTES. 



SCENE II. — Foremost height of the Mountain. 

This scene contains a vivid description of the battle, as witnessed by 
those congregated around the Emperor's tent, — viz. : the Emperor 
himself, the Chief General, Faust, Mephistopheles, &c. The means 
which Mephistopheles at last employs for the defeat of the rebel host, 
are extremely ingenious and amusing. 

" This rival monarch fires my soul to war," &c. — Page 241. 

This is a noble speech. The character of the thoughtless Emperor is 
admirably developed. We cannot help taking an interest in him, 
although, judging from what we saw of him in the First Act, and the 
report Mephistopheles makes of his goings on in the preceding scene, he 
would have well merited a downfall. 

" The cross too on it startled me." — Page 253. 

This is a characteristic trait of the Satan of Gothic legends, who was 
always supposed to fly before the sign of the cross. 



SCENE 111.— Rival Emperors Tent. 

There is something particularly lively and pleasing in the dialogue 
betwixt Quicktoseize and Hagforbe#f; and the metre is perfectly 
adapted to the free and easy tone adopted by the former of these 
plunderers. Admirably contrasted with this is the grave converse that 
ensues betwixt the Emperor and the four Princes. This latter conver- 
sation, though it may not appear of any great consequence in itself, is 
yet truly admirable, when viewed in connexion with the context. 
Nothing could be better adapted to the serious gravity with which the 
court appointments of Lord Chamberlain, Chief Butler, &c, are here 
discussed, than the old rhymed heroic verse of French tragedy, redolent 
as it is of courtly " politesse" and burlesque solemnity. 

"My follower to name— this task be yours for ever." — Page 264. 

Goethe has shewn that he meant his satire to apply in particular 
to Germany in the Middle Ages, by making the Emperor appoint his 
vassal princes electors of his follower on the throne. 

" The Chancellor left thy tent, but still the Bishop tarries" &c. — Page 265. 

The Archbishop stands forth a complete representative of the 
grasping Church of Rome in the Middle Ages. It is impossible that any 
priest on earth should more cleverly manoeuvre to gain his object, 
or more skilfully work on a penitent to testify by his deeds his true 
repentance of his sins. 



NOTES. 



331 



" For these cursed sorcerers I bear this heavy sentence.'''' — Page 267. 

The Emperor's naturally thoughtless character is well maintained 
by the anger with which he speaks of " these cursed sorcerers," without 
whose aid he would have forfeited both his crown and his life. Our 
admiration of this Fourth Act is by no means decreased, when we learn 
that it was written by Goethe after he had attained the eightieth year 
of his life. 



THE DEATH OF FAUST. — Act V. 

SCENE I. — Open Landscape. 

This scene brings us to a most exquisite episode— a perfect gem 
of beauty — the like of which it would be almost vain to seek for in any 
other work or author. I could dwell with delight on every line of this 
and the following scene. They are both perfect. How cheering is the 
trusting confidence of old Philemon ! How natural the womanly fears 
and true goodness of Baucis ! And how well does the Wanderer accord 
with the aged pair, he who has been saved by them, and now comes to 
share their fate. The goal of Faust has been attained ; the sea has been 
driven afar, the conquered land peopled by a new nation. But before 
we plunge into the active world beyond, where Faust and his vassals 
labour, how gladly does the mind rest on this beautiful idyl, this 
picture of true content and happiness, afforded us by the ancient pair ! 
How admirably does the resigned happiness of Philemon contrast with 
the still discontented cravings of Faust ! The difference betwixt them 
is, indeed, wide ; for the one has a sure stay and comfort in his God, 
and the other is the prey of doubt and miserable uncertainty. This was 
one of the last things Goethe ever wrote. His mind conceived the truly 
good and beautiful before he died. 

" Spread our meal those elm-trees under, 
Where the garden draws the bees. 
Let him stand and gaze in wonder, 
For he knows not what he sees" — Page 272. 

How beautifully touching is the affectionate tone in which the aged 
pair discourse ! We only hear them say a few words ; but these reveal 
their pure and simple characters to us so perfectly, that we seem to 
have known them all our lives. 

SCENE II.— In the Garden. 

" Trust not thou the ocean valley." — Page 275. 

We here see an instance of woman's natural bent to resist every 
innovation. Philemon entertains no horror of, but rather takes plea- 



332 



NOTES. 



sure in, the " strange wonder" which has been wrought before his eyes. 
An inward instinct, on the contrary, warns Baucis that there 'is some- 
thing impious in this miracle ; and she does not attempt to conceal her 
aversion to the daring stranger, who has changed the aspect of all she 
loved in youth, and overruled the laws of nature. 

" To the chapel pass we slowly,'" &c. — Page 275. 

These four last lines form a truly worthy conclusion of this beautiful 
idyl. He who trusts thus shall not be disappointed. We feel little or 
no sorrow at the subsequent fate of this loving pair, for we know that 
their reward and treasure were in heaven. 



SCENE in.— Garden of the Palace. 

"In wealth we thus are ever pained, 
Still craving that we have not gained." — Page 279. 

Faust tells us that he is miserable, because the poor cot of Philemon 
and Baucis is not his own. But, in truth, this is a mere symptom of 
his state of mind. He feels that something fails him, though he himself 
really knows not what ; and yet the great goal for which he has so long 
laboured is attained. Why is this ? Because he still seeks happiness 
in selfish pleasure. He has laboured, indeed ; he has done others good ; 
but he has not done this for their sakes, but only to gratify his own 
selfish desires. He still thinks of self only ; and, therefore, he is not, 
and cannot be, contented. 



SCENE TV.— Balcony and Watch-tower. 

This scene shews us the deadly fruits of injustice. One step in sin 
often leads to the most unforeseen and awful consequences. He who 
has once set a ball in motion down a steep acclivity cannot stop it again 
at his pleasure. 

" Midnight. Four grey-haired women." — Page 284. 

This scene is awful in its mysterious brevity. The punishment seems 
to follow the crime ; and the shadowy avengers of guilt come to claim 
their victim. I know of no similar scene on record superior, or even 
equal, to this. Shakspeare himself might be proud of having written it. 

SCENE V. — Chamber within the Palace. 

" Could I enchantment from my pathway banish" — Page 286. 

We here see that Faust has become disgusted with his magic power, 
and has recognised one great truth, that man must work out his own 



NOTES. 



333 



happiness by the exertion of those faculties which nature has given 
him. He himself must help himself. 

" By long ' star-gazing,' man but blinds his eyes, 
And dreams his image lives above the skies." — Page 288. 

This speech contains a further development of the same idea. But 
Faust's theory carries him too far. It is true, that man must labour 
himself; but in so doing he must also place firm trust in an over- 
ruling Providence, or else, as Faust afterwards himself declares, he will 
remain for ever uncontented. I have stated, in the Preface, that all the 
truth is not contained in Faust ; and I now repeat my assertion. Faust, 
to the end, still shews too much self-reliance, too much confidence, in his 
own powers. It must be remembered, however, that in this speech 
he is answering Care, and is too angry at the beldame's menaces to 
weigh his words deliberately. 

SCENE VI.— Great Court of the Palace. 

The latter portion of this scene is conceived and executed in the spirit 
of the mysteries of the Middle Ages, and will, perhaps, be deemed 
offensive by many. I have softened, but could not erase it ; and, after 
all, it was impossible to treat the incident here described in any other 
but a light and sarcastic tone. Mephistopheles must ever remain Me- 
phistopheles : he could not be solemn under any circumstances. 

" In youth when I did live, did Uve," &c. — Page 291. 

The ghosts of the ancients, the Lemures, are here introduced as 
digging Faust's grave. Goethe has put the gravedigger's song in 
Hamlet into their mouths, somewhat changed, so as to be adapted to the 
occasion. This song was not originally written by Shakspeare, but 
published in a collection of " Songes and Sonnettes" published in 1575. 

" There shall full space for millions opened be," &c. — Page 292. 

Faust arrives to forward the labourer's work, and calls on Mephis- 
topheles to prevent any idle loitering. A morass, it appears, has been 
left behind it by the ocean, the pestilential breath of which is the only 
drawback to the advantages of Faust's new country. This Faust wishes 
to carry off by means of a trench. And now the decisive moment 
has arrived. Suddenly, it seems to burst upon Faust's mind that when 
this is attained, he shall have made not himself only, but his fellow 
creatures happy. He sees himself the benefactor of myriads ; he feels 
that his life has not been useless ; he shares in the joy of his fellow 
creatures, and finds himself once more a man with them. It was for 
this he longed in the preceding scene, when he complained so bitterly 
of the circle of magic traced around him, which separated him from all 
his fellow-beings. Now he has burst through that circle : he is no 
longer a selfish and isolated unit, but a mortal amongst mortals, who 



334 



NOTES. 



loves, and feels, and hopes like them. And thus he at last gains that 
true content which was denied him in the arms of a Helen, or the 
plentitude of his power, and he exclaims to the passing moment— 

" O linger ! thou indeed art fair." 
The purpose of his being is fulfilled, his course is run, and even as he 
speaks he expires. 

" What ! love and hate, and joy and melancholy, 
In endless circles, turning nought to gain ! 
Rattier should empty void for ever reign." — Page 294. 

In the first part, Mephistopheles had asserted that all existence was 
void and empty, and that creation had but sprung from, and would 
again result in chaos. Here he confesses that he has but lied in saying 
this, — here he admits the great truth, that nothing is without a purpose, 
and that all things tend to a goal whether for good or evil. 

" Who will my rightful dues restore ?" — Page 302. 

Mephistopheles has not realty, but only seemingly, gained his wager. 
He it was who undertook to make Faust so happy that he should call 
on the passing moment to linger ; but he has not done so, he has 
signally failed in the attempt. Faust has found happiness himself, alone 
and unaided, and that in a manner which it never could have entered 
Mephistopheles' brain even to conceive. In what did Faust find content ? 
In the pleasures afforded by Mephistopheles ? — youth, passion, pomp, 
and power ? No ! in all of these did Faust experience momentary 
delight and lasting pain. In good alone has he discovered real content, 
in a world of thought, into which Mephistopheles had never entered, 
and of which he had never dreamt. When he puts in his claim, there- 
fore, to the soul of his supposed victim, he finds himself opposed by the 
angels, who assail him with the weapons of love, knowing that he will 
be unable to resist them ; and he discovers (as was signified to him 
by a higher power in the introduction to the first part) that the man of 
pure heart, however thickly the shades of darkness may fall around 
him, will still find his way through them to the goal of true happiness. 

SCENE VII. AND LAST. — Aerial Regions. 

This scene is supposed to play in the ether above the earth, whither 
the heavenly host has come to welcome the repentant sinner. Immense 
power of conception is displayed in it ; and all will admit that if such a 
subject was to be treated at all, it could not be done with more strict 
propriety than in this concluding scene of Faust. 

" Wild and yet fervent joy." — Page 303. 

The different states of mind of believing Christians — first, that of the 
wildly enthusiastic, — secondly, of the doubting but humble, — and 



NOTES. 



335 



thirdly, of the purely serene and happy, are developed in the three 
Fathers, Pater Ecstaticus, Pater Profundus, and Pater Seraphicus. 

"Here is the prospect free." — Page 308. 

The Doctus, or Doctor Marianus, here typifies only generally the 
worshipper of the pure, the beautiful. No allusion is intended to the 
Jesuit Mariana, who taught that the murder of kings was lawful. 

" By that spot so highly favoured" — Page 310. 

Maria Aegyptiaca, or the Egyptian Mary, was a cenobite, or female 
anchorite, of the third century, who passed forty years in the desert. — 
Vide Acta Sanctorum. 

" By this bright spirit train surrounded" &c. — Page 311. 

Most beautiful is the loving joy with which Margaret welcomes her 
Faust to bliss. 

" The Ever Feminine 
Draweth us on." — Page 312. 

By this term must be understood the pure, the good, the beautiful, 
of which woman is regarded as the type. Nothing that is not good can 
be beautiful ; and that inward purity, which makes woman alike fair in 
soul as in body, should indeed be striven for by all. 



CONCLUDING REMARKS. 

A few words more, and I have done. I would yet add two observa- 
tions — first, on the value of the original ; and secondly, on the nature of 
my translation. And first, with respect to the original, we find the 
following passage in Eckermann's Conversations : — " Truly," said I, 
(Eckermann) " this second part of Faust reveals a much richer world 
than that contained in the first." " How could it be otherwise ?" said 
Goethe. " The first part is almost entirely subjective ; it proceeded from 
an individual whose mind was captive to the influence of violent emotion, 
and I truly believe that it is precisely the indistinctness which arises 
from this state of mind that makes it so popular with the generality of 
poetry readers. In the second part, on the contrary, there is almost 
no subjectivity ; a more elevated, more expanded, more clear, and less 
impassioned world is there revealed, and he who has not seen somewhat, 



336 



NOTES. 



and lived somewhat, will not be able to make anything out of it." — 
Finally, it may be said, that darkness preponderates in the first, and 
light in the second part of Faust. 

And now, one word on the nature of my translation : it is not always 
literal, but I have ever striven to produce an effect in English that 
should correspond with that produced in German by the author. I con- 
sidered it particularly necessary, as far as in me lay, to employ the same 
fall of words, the same melodious harmony, which I found in the original. 
Unless this is done, it is altogether impossible to produce a corresponding 
effect : if a mere verbal translation be sought for, it should be made in 
prose. He who writes in the metre 0/ the original, affects to produce a 
poetical work — one that may be read in the place of that origin? 11 , 
and that may convey some idea of its beauty to the reader. It is 
for the public and the critics to decide whether I have failed or suc- 
ceeded in my task. I have furnished them with the standard by 
which I desire to be tried. 



THE END. 



T. C. Savill, Printer, 10?, St. Martin's Lane, Charing' Cross 



ERRATA. 



Page 3,- line 26, for " th\ " read " the " 



— 


22, 


— 


15, for 


' lover," read " rover." 


— 


25, 


— 


15, for 


' see," read " lie." 


— 


28, 


— 


17, for 


' shout," read " chant." 


— 


30, 


— 


19, for' 


' life," read " earth." 


— 


54, 


— 


14, for 


' with," read " within." 


— 


81, 


— 


10, for 


' phials," read "jars." 


— 


82, 


— 


16, for 


• yet," read " still." 




86, 




9, for 


' whence," read " where." 




118, 




17, for' 


* might," read " night." 




137, 




13, for ' 


' rare," read " race." 




169, 




10, for " Phorcy's," read " Phorcys' 




193, 




25, for ' 


4 hast," read " hadst." 




194, 




28, for * 


' when," read " where." 




198, 




5, for " appear," read " appears." 



— 203, bottom line, for " when on dark," read " when on 

these dark." 

— 258, line 16, for " chests fall," read " chest falls." 

— 283, — 24, for " none," read " no one." 

— 304, — 28, for " heralds ; only," read " heralds only :" 



